Traitors
by GiraffeGirl
Summary: There were five of them, you know? Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy and Caterina. The tale of the girl who had a much rockier road to Cair Paravel - and a much more difficult journey home. Set during the Golden Age although some liberties taken.
1. Chapter 1: Caterina

**It's been a good few years since I last published to this site, and this story is nowhere near completed yet. I felt like dipping my toe back in the water though and now seemed as good a time as any. This will be a multi-part story as I have just started writing part 2, but I have no idea how many parts there may be yet - potentially 5 or more. I've rated it as T for what may (and what will) occur later, although for the most part it is not a particularly shocking story. **

**Hope you enjoy :)**

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><p><strong>Part One<strong>

**Chapter 1: Caterina**

Some mornings Caterina woke up and for the first few minutes of the day, she was unable to remember where she was. Even after all these years, her first conscious moments still belonged to her ten-year-old self and her day would begin with a feeling of intense confusion and loneliness. The bright airy room she'd slept in for the past eight years seemed alien and strange in comparison to the dark chamber she'd expected to wake up in. The sea breeze drifting through the open windows was utterly different from the stuffy atmosphere she'd grown up in. For the first few minutes of the day, Caterina wondered what had happened to her life.

Things would catch up with her quickly and by the time she'd dressed, she would usually have forgotten the feelings from early in the morning. The day would pass as days usually did and it was only when she returned to bed that she ever considered how things had changed since those days. But occasionally, those feelings would stay and she'd find it unable to concentrate until she'd reacquainted herself with her new life. Things she usually took for granted took on a new significance and she would give herself over to appreciating them. Today was one of those days.

Having skipped breakfast and slipped out of the castle via the back stairs, Caterina took herself to an isolated cove. The bracing gallop on her favourite chestnut mare had wiped away some of the night's cobwebs, but it was the hour she'd spent sitting quietly, gazing out to sea, which had really begun to reattach her to this world. She buried her toes in the sand and watched the waves gently lapping at the shoreline. Even this early in the morning the sun was already warm and she lifted her lightly freckled face up towards it, taking in its every ray and enjoying its warmth. Finally, she began to shrug off the memories of the past.

'I thought I might find you here.' A shadow fell across her, blocking the sun out, and for a moment Caterina was unsure who had joined her on the beach. Then the figure crashed down next to her and she knew it could only ever have been one person who would have a clue where to find her this morning.

'It's a beautiful day,' Edmund remarked, lying back on the sand. 'I don't blame you for escaping.'

Caterina regarded her best friend thoughtfully, wondering if he was really aware of just how accurate his description of what she'd done was. The feelings of entrapment she'd awoken with had gone now, but the sensation that she was being compressed, restricted, lived on. She sometimes wondered exactly what he knew about her.

There a long pause and then Edmund propped himself up onto his elbows. A wry smile spread across his face. 'However...'

Caterina groaned.

'I'm being serious, Cat. We were wondering where you'd got to. We were worried.'

'No, you weren't.'

'We were!'

She gave him an equally wry look. 'Maybe _you_ were. I'm sure Peter was more frustrated and annoyed.'

Edmund conceded the truth with a smile. 'He didn't seem that happy.'

Caterina knew that Edmund's elder brother would be more than unhappy at her seeming disappearance this morning. As High King of Narnia, Peter had spent the past eight years in full control of everything that took place in the country. The last few followers of the White Witch had been tracked and dealt with efficiently, whilst the few minor skirmishes on the southern borders with Telmar were easily solved with some calm and peaceful negotiations. There was little Peter the Magnificent hadn't been able to achieve in his role as King. But even now, at the age of twenty-one, he still wasn't able to control Caterina.

Edmund fell silent again and Caterina let her mind drift back to her earlier happy contemplation of the things she loved about her life now. The sun would always be her favourite thing. Having lived a childhood where the only sun she ever saw was weak and powerless, her greatest joy was to bask in whatever rays of sun she could at any opportunity. Then there was the fresh sea breeze which swept across the bay, carrying promises of adventure and exotic lands beyond her sight. One day she'd make it that far, one day Edmund wouldn't go on these diplomatic journeys without her. The goalposts for her setting sail had been continually moved over the years, but maybe one good thing which would come out of today would be Peter's having to accept that there were no more good reasons not to let her leave Cair Paravel. Maybe she wouldn't be left behind again.

Edmund was letting her stay here far longer than he really wanted to. Caterina could sense in the air that, despite his seemingly relaxed state, Edmund was thinking about the preparations back at the castle, how his sisters would be bustling around the place, barely able to control their excitement. How Peter would no doubt be pacing up and down the throne room, shoulders firmly back, jaw set, temper barely kept under control. She expected that guests would begin arriving within the hour. The stables would be kept busy as horse after horse was trotted into the courtyard, eager for food and water. Her own mare was dozing in the sunlight, having decided that sand was definitely not a recommended meal. Caterina usually liked to let the horse have a paddle in the sea before heading back. She suspected Edmund might begin to make noises if she did that; he was already being exceptionally patient.

Even his patience couldn't last forever, and Caterina felt him trying to broach the subject. It was with some reluctance that he finally said, 'We really should get back.'

'I know.'

Edmund pulled himself up to his feet and looked down at her. 'It won't be that bad, I'm sure.'

She gave him a doubtful look. 'How sure?'

He pulled a face. 'Cat, if I could make it go away I would, but you know...'

She sighed and nodded. 'I know.' She knew he would. She was being unreasonable. Everything in that castle was for her, and here she was trying all she could to escape from it. If she couldn't at least enjoy it for her own sake, she should be able to for Edmund, for his brother and sisters. Accepting his helping hand up, she added, 'It doesn't make me want to go back anymore but I know.' She brushed the sand off her dress and attempted to tidy her wild blonde mane, before presenting herself for inspection. 'How do I look?'

'A mess.' Edmund grinned.

Caterina rolled her eyes. 'I suppose that'll have to do then.' She glanced at her horse. 'Can we... walk back?' She gave Edmund what she hoped was a beseeching look from her unusually green eyes.

'Any excuse to put it off?'

'You know me.'

Edmund smiled again and picked up the mare's reins. 'I suppose, just this once, we can do what you want. After all, not every day is your eighteenth birthday. Come on. Any longer and Peter will quite possibly have a fit.'


	2. Chapter 2: Peter

**Second update for a bank holiday weekend. The parts in italics (here, and throughout the story) are flashbacks - the story relies quite heavily on flashbacks which is or isn't a good idea, I can't decide. Longer chapter though.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Peter<strong>

High King Peter was indeed barely able to control his temper when the girl who had driven him crazy for eight years finally descended the stairs that morning. Had he known his younger brother had described him of being capable of 'having a fit', he would probably have been even angrier. As it was, he spoke in short clipped sentences when Caterina eventually descended the stairs after a hasty and not altogether successful tidy-up in her room. Her cheeks were flushed and her blonde hair, never easy to tame, was hanging in loose knots. She was still dressed in her riding gown which had been made two summers ago and was by now far too tight across her chest. Peter was just about able to hold back a groan as she entered the room, followed by her partner in crime who was subtly gesturing with raised eyebrows for him to be calm. _We can't all be as laid back as you, Ed_.

'Caterina,' he said in as cordial tones as he could manage. 'So nice of you to join us.'

'I... overslept.'

An obvious lie. Peter couldn't remember a time when Caterina had ever been capable of oversleeping. She was more likely to spend all night awake, gazing out to sea, no doubt concocting yet another reason why she should be allowed to accompany Edmund on his next voyage overseas. Still, it was probably a better version of events than the one he'd garnered from the muffled whispers around the castle. It would be far better for the guests they'd invited for the day's celebrations to believe that the star attraction had enjoyed a lie-in on her eighteenth birthday rather than find out that she'd in fact attempted to run away. There would be fewer questions asked.

'I'm... sorry... your Majesty.' Caterina dipped a small curtsey and lowered those curiously green eyes in an image of contrition. Somehow it only served to make Peter feel angrier. He knew it was irrational, but she had always had this effect upon him, ever since she'd first entered their lives back in those confused early days in Narnia. Most of the time she didn't need to do anything for him to feel intensely irritated by her. The fact that most of the time she was doing something irritating was neither here nor there.

'You can't disappear like that all the time,' he began, desperately trying to keep his voice low and reasonable, and knowing that he wouldn't manage it. 'Especially not now. You're not a child anymore, Caterina, you're...'

'Eighteen, I know.' The inevitable and oh-so-annoying roll of the eyes.

Peter soldiered on, gritting his teeth. 'You're going to have responsibilities, duties, roles you have to fulfil. You say you want to do things, go on tours and voyages...'

'I do!'

'Then you need to earn those rights!' Peter retorted sharply. _And stop interrupting me_, he added to himself. She was the only person who ever did that and got away with it. Even his brother and sisters never spoke over him and hadn't done for many years. Why he allowed her to get away with it time after time was beyond him. It was probably to avoid descending into arguments like this too often.

'It was one ride and I've said I'm sorry.' Caterina mirrored his tense tones, jaw set firmly, eyes flashing. 'I didn't think anyone would notice.'

Peter groaned. 'Not notice? There are dozens of people arriving here today for you, to celebrate _your_ birthday.'

'Well I didn't invite them!' A true point. Neither had Peter. Susan and Lucy had taken care of most of the invitations, only requesting his permission to use his royal seal. He had foreseen difficulties and would have liked to have let the day pass without ceremony; it would certainly have allowed him to rest easier in his bed at night. His sisters, however, had been horrified that he would by-pass her eighteenth birthday so callously and his protestations had only made the event grow beyond all reasonable proportions. It now included an archery tournament, a formal ball and Peter suspected that the current commotion on the Great Lawn was some kind of evening bonfire. He felt certain that Caterina would enjoy almost none of the events planned in her honour, and part of him felt sorry for her. The part that found her almost impossible to live with, however, felt the day's engagements were a just punishment for her natural ability to wind him up.

'That's beside the point,' he insisted now. 'Queen Susan and Queen Lucy have gone to a lot of trouble for today and you're being terribly ungrateful.' He sounded like her father, not simply her unwilling guardian, only three years older than she was. When had he begun to sound so old?

'I'm not! I'm grateful!' Caterina protested now, and he could see that his words had wounded her. For all her faults, and Peter could have happily listed them for hours, she worshipped his sister Susan and doted upon Lucy. To suggest that she might throw her idols' generosity back in their faces was tantamount to slapping her in the face.

'Then try acting like it!' He gestured towards the morning room. 'The guests will be arriving shortly. Go and get yourself dressed properly.'

'I...' Caterina glanced down at her riding gown and any objections she had to his orders died on her lips. Even she must be able to see that receiving guests in that would be completely inappropriate. 'Yes, your Majesty,' she finished her sentence eventually, dropping a cursory bob and leaving the room. The door closed a little more firmly than was strictly necessary.

'Well. That wasn't too bad.' Edmund moved from where he'd been leaning against the wall and strode towards his elder brother. 'No broken vases or direct insults, anyway. Is that your birthday present to her?'

'Sarcasm really is the lowest form of wit,' Peter replied, turning to look out the window at the preparations on the south side of the castle.

'I wasn't being sarcastic. That really was a much improved piece of communication, _your Majesty_. You'll be wishing her a happy birthday next.'

'Edmund, please.' He had forgotten to do that, he knew it was bad form. It didn't make him feel anymore like doing it by having his younger brother point out his mistake, though. 'She needed to be told.'

'But on her _birthday_? Couldn't all of that have waited?'

'All of what?'

'That stuff about duty and responsibilities.'

'It was all true!'

'But did she need to hear it today?' Edmund sighed heavily. 'Peter, I know you find her a bit... difficult.' Peter snorted in a very un-king-like way. Edmund continued. 'But she's really not normally.'

'So it's something I do to her?' Of course, it would be his fault. Hadn't almost everything been his fault ever since they'd moved into Cair Paravel? Peter wondered if he ought to remind his brother of his own duties, remind him that whatever he was supposedly trying to force onto Caterina was nothing compared to the heavy weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He'd never expected being High King would be easy, especially of a country so recently oppressed and tyrannized. It was just sometimes he wondered if he'd ever imagined it could be this hard.

'I didn't say that.' Edmund didn't deny it though. Peter wondered if his brother was just being kind. His siblings all saw something in Caterina which he didn't. It had been eight years. She'd lived with them for eight long years, and in that time, the most Peter had been able to conjure up for her was a tolerance of some of her less irritating behaviour. He certainly couldn't imagine spending as many hours in her company as Edmund did. She was always so curt and prickly in his company that he knew they'd either have a blazing row or run out of things to say entirely.

'All I'm saying is...' Edmund tried to continue, but Peter had heard enough. He cut his brother off like the hypocrite he was.

'Ed, I really don't have time for this, not today. I should be getting ready to greet the guests.' He strode towards the door purposefully, trying to bring this conversation to a close. Most people gave way when the High King of Narnia signalled the end of a discussion. Edmund wasn't most people.

'I just find it odd. All these years you've been her guardian. And... you really can't stand her, can you?' It wasn't accusing, simply sad and bewildered. Peter wished he could contradict him. Thinking of it from Edmund's point of view, it must be awful to be so caught between his brother and his best friend. He wondered how much Caterina ever said about him, whether she complained about his rules and restrictions as much as he complained about her consistently breaking them. As he was about to attempt to protest, Edmund cut him off. 'I'm not blaming you, Peter. It's just... why did you want to look after her all this time when you can barely stand being in the same room as her?'

Peter rarely spoke these days without considering his words carefully first. It was one of the many qualities which made him suitable to be the High King. Edmund had many wonderful qualities, not least his loyal attachment to his childhood friend. But thinking before he spoke would never be one of them. The only person who usually managed to provoke a knee-jerk reaction in Peter was, unsurprisingly, Caterina. It seemed Edmund had been taking lessons from her.

'It's less a case of wanting to, more a case of having to.' He registered the initial shock and later confusion on Edmund's face, before pulling the door open. 'I've got to go.'

Safe on the other side of the door, Peter considered what he'd just said. For eight years he'd avoided the issue. No one had ever questioned his role in Caterina's life, never wondered why she still remained in the castle given her guardian's antipathy towards her. Perhaps they had considered his charity towards her just another facet of his magnificent character. Peter hated that title, hated having to be magnificent all the time. There were times when he wanted to remind everyone that he was still only twenty-one, barely a fully-grown man according to the world he had come from. He had never aspired to being magnificent, and he certainly couldn't attribute his guardianship of Caterina to a particularly noble part of his character. His orders had come from a source much higher than his own conscience. Days like today always made him think back to those moments, all those years ago, when their fates had been locked together, in a way that nobody would be able to undo.

'_Peter, Adam's Son.'_

_Peter didn't need to look around to know who had spoken to him. That voice was by now so familiar and so much a part of who he was becoming that he could barely believe that only days before he had never even heard of Aslan, let alone met him. So much had happened in that short time that his previous life in Finchley and Mother and Father somehow seemed little more than a dream already. Only that morning, Peter had found to his distress that he was unable to immediately recall Mother's face in his mind. He wondered if he would ever see her again. _

_One look in the Great Lion's golden eyes erased all thought of his parents and previous life. He bowed instinctively. 'Yes Aslan?'_

'_We must talk. Come, walk with me.'_

_All around them preparations were being made for the coronation later that day. The excitement and joy was tangible. The Narnians had lived in fear for so long with no hope of freedom. Now they were releasing their emotions in bursts of song and dance, unable to contain their jubilation any longer. Peter found himself smiling too as he moved through the gardens of the castle of Cair Paravel, his new home. The place he would rule this magical land from. He hoped he'd be the king they had all been waiting for._

_Aslan remained silent as they crossed the Great Lawn and headed towards the orchard. There was less activity here and the sound of birdsong helped to block out the hustle and bustle of the castle. It was a rare moment of peace for Peter, who was only now realising how harassed he'd felt over the last few days. Event had followed event so swiftly that he hadn't had a chance to take a breath and look around. In the fresh surroundings of the orchard, he opened his eyes to this world fully. And it was wonderful._

_Aslan paced between the trees on silent paws, occasionally glancing up into the boughs of a tree. It took Peter some time to notice that each tree the lion passed soon fell silent and, with a fluttering of blossom, the birds in the trees flew away. Soon Peter and Aslan were left alone in the silent still orchard. And finally Aslan spoke again._

'_I have asked you here to talk of a matter of great importance.' Peter nodded in response. 'You will soon become the High King of Narnia, a position of extreme power and authority. With this will come great responsibility. It is this I wish to talk to you about.'_

_Peter nodded again. He'd been hoping he would be able to speak to Aslan alone before the coronation. Whilst Lucy could only see the amazing party being prepared for them, Peter had the advantages of his age. He had always been entrusted with his younger siblings at home, and he remembered how Mother had entreated him to look after them as they left London for Professor Kirke's house. Back then, he had thought two sisters and a brother were heavy burden. They were nothing compared to a whole country. Any advice Aslan could give him would be readily accepted._

'_Narnia has overcome the greatest enemy it has ever faced. You and your brother and sisters have helped to restore the land to the state it was in when it was first created. Narnia, for now, is safe once again.'_

_Peter frowned. 'For now, Aslan?'_

_The lion nodded a little sadly. 'Yes, only for now. You are only young, Son of Adam, and yet you must already be aware that things seldom stay the same. In time the horrors of the White Witch and her reign will be nothing but a legend and then will fade into children's stories. Narnia will not always be the happy place you see before you today.'_

_Peter struggled against his initial reaction: _how comforting._ 'Then... how am I to prevent this?' His voice quivered a little but he was pleased with what he'd said. Accepting the responsibility he was being offered with both hands and showing his willingness to learn, he was certain Aslan would give him the help he so badly needed._

'_From this day forth, you shall be known as High King Peter of Narnia. Your brother and sisters will join you and support you. Yet there is someone else.'_

_With a dawning realisation, Peter murmured, 'Caterina...' The golden haired and pale-skinned girl who had been rescued from the Witch's house itself. In the chaos of the last few days, he could easily have overlooked her if it wasn't for the way his brother looked at her. It was as though he'd never seen another human before. That was assuming that she was indeed human. Peter had his doubts considering where her alliances had appeared to lie until recently._

_As though he could read his mind, Aslan spoke again. 'The third Daughter of Eve has faced many challenges already in her life. Now is not the time for questions but for understanding. The time will come when her past will become important. That time is not now.'_

'_When will it come?'_

_Aslan gave him a firm look from those deep amber eyes. 'You will know it. Until that time, she will need the care and protection of not only the Narnian people but of her friends and family. It will not always be easy, for any of you. Yet to keep Narnia safe, you must first begin with Caterina.'_

_Peter struggled to digest what he was being told. Frowning, he asked, 'Then... am _I_ to help to keep her safe?'_

'_Until the sun sets on her eighteenth birthday, Caterina is to be placed within your care. You will guard her, guide her, protect her and comfort her through the next eight years. Only by doing this will you have a chance of saving Narnia.' Aslan gave the boy a more kindly look. 'What I ask of you will be difficult, Peter. But I cannot stress the importance of this task. Without you, Narnia will once again fall into despair and disaster. I am relying upon you.'_

Peter gazed at the lion's face engraved above the large mirror in the banquet hall. The tables were being laid for the evening's feast, and several driads were laying garlands of flowers around the room. Peter had been struck by the beauty of these tree spirits upon first entering Narnia as a young boy, and time had not erased those first impressions. They seemed to shift shape as one looked at them, moving between their human and tree forms. Their light-footed steps around the tables barely disturbed Peter from his reverie as he considered the responsibilities placed upon him at the age of thirteen. In so many ways he had succeeded. Wasn't Narnia a beautiful country once again, full of happy and loyal subjects? He had saved many good trees, kept the borders free from invaders and solved many domestic problems. By most people's expectations, he was, indeed, magnificent.

But Peter knew better, and he remembered Aslan's words as he stared at the engraving now. If any part of his duty as High King had caused him sleepless nights, it was Caterina. She'd grown from an awkward girl, hiding in Edmund's shadow and second-guessing herself at every opportunity, to a free-spirited and isolated young woman. It was true that her early charming looks had developed into something that could only be described as true beauty. Whilst Susan was admired by kings from overseas, and Lucy was adored by princes in neighbouring kingdoms, Caterina had quietly blossomed without anyone really noticing. She had never shown the slightest interest in any passing prince or lord. Peter could already tell he would have more trouble with Lucy than he had ever had with Caterina when it came to men.

It was the other things she did which left him unable to act. The way she'd vanish for hours on end, with no explanation of where she'd been or what she'd been doing. How she'd withdraw into herself on occasions, incapable of engaging in even the simplest conversation. The times she'd implored him to allow her to travel along with Edmund and yet had been unable to provide even one good reason as to why she, of all the people available, should be awarded a coveted place on the ship. No matter what Caterina was saying or doing, she seemed to be unconsciously defying him, rejecting the attempts he made to fulfil Aslan's wishes. The more he tried, the more frustrated he became, and he'd now lost sight of the time when he had begun to see his role as guardian as little more than a title. The rules and regulations he laid down in an attempt to guard and guide her only pushed her further away from him, and he now knew that the last person she would ever come to for comfort would be him.

_I've let her down, Aslan. I've let you down. I promised to take care of her and I haven't. So. Now what will become of us?_


	3. Chapter 3: Edmund

**Think this will be my only update this week as I need to write some more before I post much more. Please let me know if it's worth it. It's quite a slow starter as we catch up with the characters 8 years after LWW - things start becoming darker in chapter 6, and really take off in about chapter 8. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Edmund<strong>

Edmund crossed the Central Courtyard, marvelling at the preparations taking place. Several centaurs, with strong shiny flanks and great flowing beards, were driving stakes into the ground in readiness for the archery tournament that would take place that afternoon. There hadn't been a celebration like this since he had turned eighteen six months earlier and the Narnians loved revelry; Caterina would have a birthday unlike any other.

Striding back inside the castle, Edmund glanced out the window. The first few guests had arrived and their horses were being fed and watered in the stables, but the main bulk of the guests were yet to make an appearance. It was only mid-morning and there was still plenty of time, yet Edmund's older sister Susan was already frantically turning in circles in the morning room, anxious for the day to begin properly. Considering Peter was still prowling around somewhere, Edmund decided to avoid that particular area of the castle and instead headed straight upstairs. He really didn't want to get into any more conflict with his elder siblings. Not today of all days.

As he climbed up the stairs, he glanced up at the great tapestry which covered the vast wall. He passed it almost every day and yet every time he found himself drawn to the boy depicted in it. Even after all these years, he was still fascinated by who he was and why he was in the scene. He knew it was only a representation of how Narnia came into being and wasn't strictly factual. The leaves and trees were typically stylised, and if he was honest, the horses had distinctly strange legs and necks. He expected that there had been more animals – there were no goats visible in it, for instance, and Edmund knew for certain that there were goats in Narnia. Yet throughout all the editing and folklore, the two human figures in it had stayed the same. A boy and a girl who looked no older than he had been when he first stepped through that wardrobe. They were dressed in a way he now considered strange but which he was certain would have been considered normal, if a little old-fashioned, back in England. They certainly weren't Narnian clothes. Their faces were indistinct, rendered unidentifiable by the stitching and the dust. Rather than being frustrated by their lack of identity, Edmund had found over the years that he quite liked the way they could be anybody. It had fascinated him, wondering who they were and how they had got there. A few myths and legends remained. The boy was usually known as Digory, whilst the girl was usually called either Polly or Sally. There was talk of some rings and of them having an air of having travelled from another land. Edmund didn't doubt the fact that they had come from elsewhere, and he suspected he knew where. The fact that there had been other people here before, people from his world, fascinated him. He supposed he would never know who they were or meet them, but every time he passed the tapestry he reminded himself of their existence. It somehow reminded him of how far he'd come since arriving here, today more than ever. Somehow this felt like more than Caterina's coming of age; it felt like the coming of age of their reign in Narnia.

The passages upstairs were equally as busy as the Courtyard, with maids hurrying around with extra bedding and fresh flowers for the bedchambers. Edmund smiled as he recognised yet more of Susan's handiwork. She adored flowers and sometimes forgot that not everybody was as keen on them as she was. He expected that Caterina would be gaining several vases full today. Knowing her as she did, he also expected that she'd accept them as gracefully as possible, but would inwardly be lamenting the fact they'd been torn up from the ground.

Maids dipped brief curtsies in his direction as he passed them, but they were so caught up in their jobs that he didn't blame them for bustling past with little more ceremony. Whilst he knew that he was technically superior to them, right now, their work was far more important than anything he was doing. His main role today was to keep Caterina within sight of the castle and so far he'd managed it. Once the celebrations were underway, even she'd find it tricky to slip away. He suspected his job was almost over. Still, there was no harm in checking on her.

As he headed down the corridor towards her bedchamber, a maid walked past him. Not just any maid, he realised now, and he frowned. Caterina had shared a ladies' maid with Lucy for the past eight years, but it had been a tricky relationship. Now Lena was striding down the corridor, looking less than happy.

'Is something wrong?'

Lena gave the obligatory curtsey but proceeded to speak her mind. It was a facet of her character that Edmund had always liked. 'Good morning, your Majesty. I've spent over an hour trying to convince her to get into that beautiful gown she's had made for today.'

'And?' He didn't know why he sounded so hopeful; it was obvious things hadn't gone well.

'Well... judge for yourself, Sire.' Lena gestured towards the door to Caterina's bedchamber. She gave another curtsey and then continued on her way towards Lucy's room, where she would find a much more willing mistress.

Edmund sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, and knocked on the door.

'Come in.' She sounded uncertain, perhaps a little guilty. As he pushed the door open, the look on her face spoke volumes. She knew she was supposed to be dressed and ready to go by now. Instead, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her sand-stained riding gown, a book resting in her lap and her hair falling in untidy waves down her back. He didn't even need to speak before she said, 'I know, I know...'

'Cat, he asked you ages ago to go and get changed.'

'I said I know!'

'I'm not trying to nag you...' Edmund tailed off as she gave him another doleful look. 'Cat, you'd think it was your execution, not your birthday!'

'Is there any difference?'

Edmund sat down next to her and nudged her gently. 'It's one day. One day and then it will all be back to normal.'

Caterina snorted. 'Apart from all these _duties_ Peter already has lined up for me. I'm sure they'll be _hugely_ important tasks. I'm sure he'll trust me with something _amazingly_ vital.'

'Cat.' Edmund tried to keep the weary tone out of his voice but failed miserably. Deep down, he agreed with her. Whilst Peter was going on and on about her future responsibilities, he doubted his brother would ever entrust anything important to her. She'd rarely proved herself capable of taking full responsibility for anything, not even herself. He supposed this would be another occasion when he was stuck between his brother and his best friend, secretly agreeing with both of them.

Luckily, Caterina didn't take offence. 'I'm sorry, I know.' She rested her elbows on her knees and buried her head in her hands. 'I know, he's your brother, I'm being awful.'

'He's looked after you for all these years,' Edmund reminded her and he was thankful when Caterina merely nodded. Peter's idea of 'looking after' was a world away from his, and he couldn't forget what his brother had said to him only that morning: _It's less a case of wanting to, more a case of having to._ It wasn't the most flattering statement in the world, and certainly wouldn't help relations between the two of them. Edmund wisely decided to keep it to himself.

Now he looked at the dress all this fuss was about. It was the first time he'd seen it and he expected the way it was draped over the chair didn't show it at its best. The silk skirt was crumpled and he expected there was far more detail on the back of the bodice than he could currently see. Even so, he could tell it was something special.

'That's some dress.'

Caterina lifted her head and put her chin in her hands. 'I know. Can you tell Susan helped to choose it?'

'It's nice.'

'It's hardly me though, is it?'

Edmund had to agree that it probably wasn't. Caterina normally chose gowns for their comfort and her ability to ride in them, rather than for the way they looked. If he was honest, he'd grown so used to seeing her in her current riding gown that it had surprised him when Peter had drawn his attention to it. He supposed it was a little on the tight side and certainly nothing in comparison with the pink and gold creation in front of them.

'I don't know. It's something different. Special. It _is_ your birthday, Cat.'

Caterina groaned loudly and stood up, crossing over to the window. 'Oh I know! I wish people would stop saying that, it's not as though I'm likely to forget, is it? Look at all of that down there for me!' She gestured outside at the now busy stable yard. New horses with their masters' shields on their flanks were being led in and brushed down. Caterina's grumbles momentarily died down as she lost herself in looking at the new arrivals. Edmund joined her at the window and left her in silence for a while. This would probably be the happiest she'd be all day, and he wished he could give her the birthday she really wanted. It would involve being outside now, out in the hills surrounding Cair Paravel. There was a chance she would allow him to join her, but he suspected that she'd be equally as happy on her own. It would make her day for him to help her escape now.

Finally, he spoke and placed an unwilling hand on her shoulder. 'So you'll get changed then?'

Caterina blinked, shocked at being jerked out of her reverie. For one moment, he thought she was going to argue. Then she nodded.

'I'll send someone to get Lena.'


	4. Chapter 4: Susan

**Chapter 4: Susan**

Susan felt every muscle in her body relax as she looked across the ballroom and saw Caterina finally leaving the sidelines on the arm of a man. Moments later, the younger girl swept past her, and if she didn't look exactly delighted, she at least was managing to appear fully engaged in the dance. It was a relief. Susan had to admit that holding a ball to celebrate her birthday was a risky business; Caterina wasn't known for her enjoyment of either dancing or large crowds. However, it seemed all the worry and anxiety had been for nothing and Susan was pleased. The pink dress she'd helped the younger girl to choose looked perfect against her lightly tanned skin, and if her blonde hair was making an attempt to escape from the elaborate braids and jewels, at least it was freshly washed and shining.

Susan's own evening had so far consisted of being asked for numerous dances. As the primary host, each and every young man had felt it only polite to ask the Queen for a turn around the dancefloor. Susan had obliged with as many as she could, although she had directed a few in other directions, mainly towards Caterina, who had been typically difficult. Lucy, luckily, had been far keener to fulfil her royal duties and was now making a tour of the ballroom on the arm of a duke from one of the Lone Islands. Her own blonde waves were spinning out around her, making Susan wince a little, to her own distaste. She knew she was behaving more like a maiden aunt than her older sister, but she did wish that Lucy would begin to act her sixteen years and make some effort to pin her hair up on occasions such as this. Susan's own mahogany hair was tucked up neatly and decorated with dozens of pearls.

The music stopped and Susan gave a low curtsey to the man who had partnered her for the dance. 'Thank you very much, Lord Dresden.'

'Thank you, your Majesty.' The young blond haired noblemen bowed. 'If I may say so, you dance divinely. Any dance with you is a treat indeed.'

Susan smiled graciously, resisting the urge to giggle. She'd have to save that comment for later; Lucy would be sure to enjoy such a statement and the sisters usually spent a little time with each other before retiring for the night. 'Thank you very much,' she said now, inclining her head in response to the compliment. 'One is only ever as good as one's partner, after all.'

Lord Dresden blushed furiously, his pale complexion turning beetroot red, reminding Susan that he was only seventeen, having inherited the title when his father died prematurely last year. He would do much better to dance with Lucy or Caterina. Still, it had been a perfectly pleasant dance and dancing was one of the things Susan loved to do best.

Now though, as Lord Dresden led her back to her throne, she very much wished to have a rest. There were still two hours to go until the bonfire was to be lit, and her feet were just beginning to throb inside her silk shoes. A glance across the room showed her that several other women at the ball were having the same problems and one had even removed her shoe and was massaging her foot with one hand. Susan wished she could do something similar and yet knew that such an action would never befit a Queen of Narnia. The most she could do was curl her toes slightly to try and relieve the pressure on the balls of her feet. With a slightly sinking heart, she saw yet another young duke or lord or baron approach the throne. She glanced around the room, wondering if there was anybody she could direct him towards. Caterina was still on the arm of the man she'd been dancing with, an older man altogether, Susan realised now. Her grasp on names had always been a little shaky and she wasn't entirely sure who the raven-haired, white-toothed man was. He looked very distinguished though, and Susan was partially impressed at the younger girl's choice of dance partner. She was just surprised that it hadn't been Edmund. It didn't look as though she'd be able to help Susan now, anyway, and Lucy was similarly engaged. It looked as though Susan would have to fulfil her duties once again.

She rose to her feet and smiled as the nobleman reached her. He was a little taller than she was, she realised as he took her hand, and had sandy blond hair. In contrast with Lord Dresden, however, his skin was golden and his shoulders were broad and solid. He brought his lips to her hand and planted a brief kiss on it.

'Your Majesty.' He lifted his head and revealed piercingly blue eyes. Susan couldn't remember when she had ever seen such a rich and deep blue before. Coupled with his glowing skin, it made her think of summer days on a beach, the sea lapping at her toes.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement of his greeting. Glossing over the fact she couldn't remember his name, she replied, 'I trust you are having a good evening?'

'Very much so, thank you.'

She suddenly realised he hadn't let go of her hand. His grasp was warm yet Susan couldn't say it was uncomfortable. In fact, she was rather enjoying it. Despite her aching feet, she was suddenly very much looking forward to dancing with this stranger. She suspected he would make a far better partner than Lord Dresden had.

'Lovely to meet you, your Majesty.' The man informed her now, and to her inner dismay, released her hand. He stepped backwards and gave her another bow. 'I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of the evening.'

The words were like a bucket of cold water down Susan's back and for a moment she was unable to respond at all. When she found her tongue, she responded in a way she rarely did these days: impulsively and with the first thing that popped into her head. 'Don't you want to dance?'

The stranger turned back to her, surprise registering on his face even as a small smile spread across it. 'I believe convention usually dictates that the _man_ should request the dance,' he replied now, in a much lower voice than he'd spoken before, and in a tone which implied much greater familiarity than having exchanged only several words with a Queen.

Susan felt a blush to rival Lord Dresden's spread across her face. She was famed for her composure and dignity in all situations, not to mention her porcelain skin and features. She felt certain that the peach coloured gown she was wearing was clashing horribly with her now burning face.

He finally took pity on her. 'Who listens to convention, though?' Another smile came over his face. 'Unfortunately, I've already promised a dance to your sister, Queen Lucy.'

Susan's skin cooled instantly. 'Oh. Oh of course,' she said, winning the battle to regain control of her voice. 'Well... I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.' She gave him a brief bob of her head. 'If you will excuse me.' With a grand sweeping of skirts, she swept away from the stranger, hoping she would find somewhere to hide away whilst her heart fell back into the semblance of a normal rhythm.


	5. Chapter 5: Caterina

**Chapter 5: Caterina**

'So. You and Lord Asriel seemed to hit it off.'

Caterina glanced in Edmund's direction as he joined her on the balcony overlooking the orchard. The first scents of the bonfire on the Great Lawn were beginning to drift in their direction on the fresh sea breeze. Whilst she knew it was yet another event in her honour, Caterina would have preferred to slip away to her room at the end of this ball rather than spend more time in the company of people she had no desire to ever see again, Lord Asriel included. She couldn't quite understand how her best friend had gained such a distorted view of her evening.

'Pardon?' was all she was able to say, completely at a loss. She'd rarely seen Edmund look so tense. A nerve in his jaw was twitching and his knuckles were white where he'd wrapped his hands around the balcony rail.

'You and Lord Asriel. Whatever happened to not dancing at your own birthday ball?'

'I... changed my mind.' Caterina shrugged. 'He asked.' _And your brother looked like he was about to have that fit if I turned anyone else down._ There was no point telling that to Edmund though. He tried not to, but his loyalties always lay with his family. _And I'm not part of that_.

'You do know who Lord Asriel is, don't you?' Edmund demanded now.

Caterina couldn't help rolling her eyes. 'Am I supposed to remember who everybody at this ridiculous party is?' There were dozens of Lords and Princes and Dukes and noblemen, all seemingly identical. Probably the most interesting things about them were their horses and Caterina knew she wouldn't get any opportunity to see them. The most obvious thing she could say about Lord Asriel was that he was the best-looking man to approach her this evening, despite his advanced years. His black hair and dark eyes gave him a much more exotic look than the majority of blond haired, blue-eyed Narnian men. Beyond that, she could remember little about him.

'He's the one who's been cutting down trees up at Lantern Waste.' Edmund sounded incredulous that she could forget. 'Peter suspects he's been helping with the slave trade on the Calormen borders.' He shook his head. 'We've been talking about him for _ages_, Cat.' She could hear the unspoken addition: _don't you ever listen?_

Now that she thought about it, she did vaguely remember mention of Asriel's name. Somehow it had gone out of her mind when faced with the reality of the man though. She felt a little guilty now, but refused to let Edmund know that.

'I can't be expected to remember everything.'

'Remembering who is and isn't a psychopath shouldn't that hard, Cat!' Edmund glanced over his shoulder as he realised he'd spoken a little too loudly. Thankfully no one was within earshot and Lord Asriel would remain unaware that his hosts had such hostile views about him.

'If he's that awful, why invite him to my birthday?'

'It's complicated. You know as well I do that we have to be careful, we can't be seen to be snubbing people. I didn't expect you to fall straight into his arms though.'

'He asked, Edmund!' Caterina wished she could have controlled her temper a little better, but it had been a long day. If she was supposed to have enjoyed it, it had been a miserable failure. All she'd felt was harassed, from the moment Edmund had brought her back to the castle that morning. Now he was haranguing her about some meaningless shuffle around a dance floor which she hadn't even wanted in the first place. This was why she hated events like this; it always ended up with her feeling out of place, even with her best friend. She knew that she was lucky, that she'd been treated with far more kindness than she'd ever deserved since the end of that terrible winter eight years ago. She had no right to expect anything more. Yet she did. Edmund's uncharacteristic nagging wasn't making her feel any better.

Now she gave him a petulant and sulky look, inwardly hating herself as she said, 'It wasn't as though anyone else was asking me to dance, anyway.'

'I saw at least three other people ask you!' She could see the realisation of what she'd said passing across Edmund's face split seconds after he'd spoken. If she was a crueller person, she'd have enjoyed his look of shock and then guilt at what he'd said. Instead, she simply turned away as he said, 'Cat, what are you saying? Cat!'

'I'm going for a walk.'

'Now? By yourself? But everyone's waiting inside for you!'

Caterina refused to turn back, even as Edmund's voice became ever more high-pitched and un-kingly. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd walked away from him in the years they'd known each other. As she headed out into the dusk, keeping her head down and avoiding the stares of the many guests invited to celebrate her birthday, she realised that the first time was almost exactly eight years ago.

* * *

><p>'<em>Caterina!'<em>

_ The screech echoed along corridors, losing some of its shrillness but none of its power and anger. Caterina found herself rising automatically, unquestioningly, and her feet began to carry her towards the source of the noise. She moved quickly but unhurriedly, her back ramrod straight as she'd been taught and her footsteps light and noiseless along the miles of stone corridor. Even when the cry was repeated at a higher pitch, hitting her with greater force as she approached the throne room, she still maintained the same regular rhythm. _

_Only as she entered the throne room did her stride falter and she brought herself to a natural stop. Her mistress and guardian was standing with her back to her, although after all this time, Caterina didn't need to see her face to know that she was angry. She'd long ago learnt to pick up on the Queen's moods from the way her cloak was arranged, from the way the light fell in the throne room. Even if she hadn't developed a sixth sense, the boy standing awkwardly in the centre of the throne room would have given her a large clue. Unaccustomed to seeing strangers, let alone human strangers, Caterina found herself staring at him, with his dark eyes and curls, his unusual clothes, for longer than she meant to. When she finally remembered herself, she felt her heart hammer a warning; the Queen was waiting for someone to unleash her rage on. If Caterina didn't speak soon, she would be on the receiving end of it._

_ Now she hastily bobbed a perfect curtsey and said, 'You called, your Majesty?'_

_ There was barely a flicker from the Queen, who remained resolutely turned away. Finally, she spoke, in a cold quiet voice. 'You must come faster when you are called.'_

_ 'I'm sorry, your Majesty.' The whole room seemed frozen as they waited for the Queen's reply. Caterina refused to let her eyes drift back towards the boy in the middle of the room. There was little point in angering her guardian further._

_ After a seemingly endless pause, the Queen turned. Her face couldn't have been described as warm or kind, but there was no malice directed towards Caterina and that was all she could ask for. She spoke quickly and firmly. It was the voice of someone who always got what they requested. 'You must go and ready yourself. We're going on a journey.'_

_ Although she was certain that whatever had prompted this journey wasn't good, Caterina found herself struggling not to appear elated. She fought against her initial reactions to smile and laugh, biting her lip so firmly that a drop of blood fell into her mouth. The bitterness helped to focus her mind on what had been said and what she needed to do in response. 'Yes your Majesty.' She curtsied again. 'Is there anything else?'_

_ The Queen now turned her eyes towards the boy, and Caterina felt a shudder run down her spine. Such disgust and hatred was written into that look that she felt certain the boy would turn to stone in an instant, without the use of the wand. Of course, Caterina had seen similar looks before, directed at many prisoners and traitors. There was something different this time, though. What was it which made that look so truly terrifying? Caterina had a dreadful sense that change was coming, that her little life was about to be altered completely. She had never seen such a look on her guardian's face, and she found herself fighting another natural instinct. Blinking back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat, she waited for the Queen to speak._

_ 'Find something for him to wear.' She gestured vaguely and abruptly in his direction. 'Take him with you.'_

_Caterina curtsied again and turned to leave, when the boy suddenly spoke._

_ 'Please, your Majesty, please may I have some Turkish Delight?' His voice was loud and echoed around the throne room in a way that Caterina had never heard anyone's voice do before. Anyone except the Queen._

_ Now the Queen erupted into anger. 'Silence fool!' Caterina glanced at the boy and saw him flinch and look genuinely startled. She was certain the Queen's next words weren't in response to his reaction. 'And yet it wouldn't do to have the little brat faint on the way.' She clapped her hands and Clunkwell the dwarf appeared. 'Fetch some Turkish Delight for the little prince.'_

_ Clunkwell shared a smile with the Queen and left, reappearing moments later and handing the boy a platter. The boy looked at and then flung the plate down with a crash and a clatter._

_ 'I don't want dry bread!'_

_ 'You may be glad of it before you taste bread again!' the Queen exploded, and the boy cowered. 'Caterina, do what you have been told. Take the boy with you.'_

_ Caterina now found herself in the awkward position of having to get the boy to come with her. The Queen had turned away again and was pacing. Rarely had Caterina seen her so fretful and anxious, and the sight of her guardian in such a clear state of panic only made her stomach twist further. When the boy seemed not to have heard his directions, she cleared her throat and tried to mimic her guardian's tones. She wasn't sure it sounded as effective coming from a ten-year-old girl though._

_ 'Come with me, boy.' She swept out of the throne room, and could only hope he would follow. She wasn't sure if it was for her sake or his that she was relieved when his clumsy footsteps followed her along the corridors._

_ 'Where are we going?' he asked presently, that same petulant tone in his voice. 'Where are you taking me?'_

_ Caterina ignored him. It was clear he wasn't here as a guest of the Queen and she was certain that she would not be thanked for fraternizing with him. Besides, despite her outwardly calm expression, she felt completely at a loss. There had been rumours of humans in Narnia for many a year, and Caterina had seen her guardian in a temper because of them. Patrols had been increased and Maugrim had been a regular sighting in the castle. When the Queen had returned from a tour of her kingdom a few weeks earlier, Caterina had caught only a few words, all of them spoken in a thunderous tone: '...Son of Adam ...four of them... treacherous faun...' All Caterina had really known was that she hadn't been allowed to leave the castle ever since then. And now here was the source of all this angst: a boy who looked no older than she was. As he drew level with her, stumbling over his own feet, she glanced sideways from underneath lowered eyelashes. Her first sighting of a Son of Adam. She had no idea how she would even begin to speak to him._

_ 'I asked you a question!' It seemed the Queen's rage hadn't completely subdued his temper. 'I know you can speak, I heard you before. So where are you taking me?'_

_ Caterina suffered similar demands on the long walk to find the boy a coat. He was disgusted at the moth-eaten fur he was offered but put it on anyway. Glancing outside, Caterina followed suit; a snow storm had developed as the evening had gone on and she didn't wish to be caught out in it without a coat. As she turned to head back towards the throne room, she found her coat caught by the boy. She started and stared at him, unable to believe that he would place a hand on her. Her hours of dedicated study of her guardian's expressions must have paid off, as he paled and let the coat cuff drop._

_ 'I...' He swallowed and said. 'My name's Edmund.' _

_There was a silence and he looked at her as if he was waiting for her to speak. She considered all the ways she could reply. Then she turned again and led the way back towards the throne room. After a few seconds, she heard his faltering footsteps behind her again. And this time, he followed her in silence._


	6. Chapter 6: Caterina

**Chapter 6: Caterina**

The orchard, at least, was empty of guests. Caterina had already been startled by a covert couple in the Great Courtyard, who seemed equally as embarrassed to have been sighted as she was. Even the stable yard, always her refuge of choice, was busy with extra grooms and stable hands. Besides, she expected if she returned to the ball with hay in her hair and horsehair on her dress, Susan would be fuming. Having the male half of the royal family angry with her was bad enough.

Finally satisfied that she wouldn't be disturbed, she leaned against a tree and gazed up at the bits of sky she could see amongst the branches. Her feet and back ached from standing all day. Her mouth ached from smiling. Most of all, her head ached from having to force aside her natural reactions and objections all day. She was tired of pretending to be something other than what she was. Even Edmund didn't seem satisfied today.

Something cold and wet found its way into the palm of her hand and she gave a squeal. Then she found her mouth breaking into its first unforced smile of the day as she realised who had joined her in the darkening castle grounds. Finn, the lurcher Edmund had given her for her sixteenth birthday, whimpered excitedly as he licked her hand delightedly. It was the first time she'd seen him all day and she found herself equally as pleased as he was.

'So what have you been up to then?' she said conversationally, smiling at her own folly. For all of Finn's wonderful qualities, speaking wasn't one of them, for which she was often grateful. The things Finn had heard should mostly never be repeated; at least this way she could completely trust him. Now, as he headbutted her excitedly, she laughed and ruffled his ears. 'Oh, that thrilling a day? I'm jealous.' She sighed as he scrabbled at her dress. 'Finn, darling, Susan will probably kill us both if you get any paw prints on this thing.' The dog whined as though he actually understood, and stopped pawing at her. 'Go on, go and find some rabbits or something.' With a final lick, the dog trotted away through the orchard until she couldn't see him any longer, his grey coat mixing with the long evening shadows.

She wished she could as easily trot away. Each moment she spent out here, breathing in her beloved sea air and allowing herself to try and forget the awkward moments of the day, only meant that she was one moment closer to having to walk back into the castle, pretending to have the time of her life. Sometimes she wished she could fast forward time and avoid days like today. They didn't suit her and only resulted in people feeling let down and miserable.

Five more minutes. She'd give herself five more minutes of peace. And it was peaceful, amazingly peaceful. All she could hear was the distant lap of the waves on the beach and the rustling of the trees. There weren't even any birds singing. That was strange, she thought now. The sun was setting but there were ordinarily dozens of birds out here, especially at this time of the year when the blossom was out on the trees. She gazed around, listening for the whir of wings or snatched moments of birdsong. But there was nothing. Just the wind whistling through the trees. And... her name.

At first she thought it was coming from the castle. Edmund, no doubt, searching for her in order to apologise, though she was certain he had no idea what he was apologising for. She would struggle to put it into words; how did you put eight years' worth of hurt into a succinct explanation? Or maybe Lucy, concerned as to where she'd got to and fizzing with excitement over some duke or other. It was definitely a female voice, Caterina thought now. And not coming from the castle, but from the furthest corner of the orchard, a sheltered spot which was already in darkness. Who on earth could be calling her from there?

A familiar feeling stole over Caterina. It was as though the door was closing on one part of her life and if she turned towards that voice, it would be locked for good. No way back. She remembered that feeling from that day eight years ago. Things had certainly changed for good then. The great castle behind her was reminder enough of that, as were the celebrations she'd endured all day. Now she had a feeling that if she took one more, two more steps into the darkened orchard that things would change again. Equally as irreversibly.

Caterina had rarely had to make many decisions in her life. Things had happened and she'd been swept along. Her life had almost always been in someone else's hands. Today was different. Turning eighteen had symbolised so much, the opportunity for greater freedom, greater autonomy. But as Peter had said only that morning, greater responsibility and duties. He could never have known that she'd face such a dilemma so soon after turning eighteen.

Her name drifted towards her on the breeze again, and she wished she'd brought a cloak outside with her. Despite the sunny days and all the flowers in the gardens, it was only early spring and the evenings were still cold. But not usually this cold. Only moments early, she'd been thinking about how pleasant it was out here and how in a few weeks time, she'd be able to go for rides in the evening as well as the morning. Now she wondered if winter had come back with a vengeance. And there was her name again.

With a final glance back at the castle, Caterina stepped forward into the darkness. Edmund had always joked that with eyes like hers, she must be able to see in the dark, but she proved him wrong yet again by promptly tripping over a tree root. She fell to the ground with a thud and a grunt. Before she could even consider what a mess she must have made of her dress, a different thought struck her. The ground was so hard underneath her hands and the grass was crisp – like a frost. And she was colder than ever.

And then her name again. With a start, she scrambled to her feet. She knew that voice. Oh how she knew that voice.


	7. Chapter 7: Edmund

**I'm intending to crack on with this considering I'm signed off work for 3 more weeks with a broken foot and have completely run out of anything else to do. In answer to Mikkifavo's question - I'm not sure if you're supposed to sympathise with Caterina or not. I think I want you to understand her more than agree with what she does. I think! (To b honest, I'm starting to enjoy my sub-plot more... but more of that later)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Edmund<strong>

_'Edmund!'_ Susan grabbed his arm in a completely un-queenly way. She was flushed, and the polite smile she'd displayed all day had become an anxious frown. Now, cornering him in an all but deserted stairwell, she let her younger brother get the full force of her stressful evening. 'Where have you been? I've been looking for you for ages! And I've just chased you down that whole corridor calling your name, didn't you hear me?'

Edmund shook his head. 'No, sorry. What did you want?' He'd been vaguely aware of being followed as he stalked the castle, trying to work off the strange mood his conversation with Caterina had produced. He was unable to explain even to himself how he was feeling and he'd hoped removing himself for a few minutes would help. Typically, he was denied even that small pleasure.

Susan's dark eyes flashed as she looked him up and down. 'Do you have to be so off-hand? I know this evening means almost nothing to you, or Caterina, but it means a lot to me, and Lucy. And talking of Caterina, where is she?'

'Good question.' Edmund bit his lip as he realised how curt his reply had been. Susan looked as though she'd been slapped. Breathing out a sigh, he said, 'Sorry, Su, it's not your fault.'

'Caterina's vanished? Again?' His sister's raised eyebrows told him that she wasn't particularly surprised. 'I thought she'd be with you.'

'She was. We... we kind of...'

Susan sighed. 'You had a row, didn't you?' As he nodded, she made an exasperated noise. 'Oh Ed! You don't argue for months on end and when you do you pick _tonight_?'

'I didn't pick anything.'

'Even the fight?' She looked triumphant as he was unable to reply. 'What was it about this time?'

'Nothing. We just...' Edmund leaned back against the wall and sighed again. It was at times like this that he felt his age. He knew Susan was only trying to help, but the last person he really wanted to share his feelings with right now was his nineteen-year-old sister. Being kings and queens of Narnia had changed them all in dozens of ways, but it couldn't erase the awkwardness of discussing anything even vaguely romantic with his siblings. 'We just had one of our stupid fights. You know what we're like.'

Susan smiled, reminding Edmund why there were quite so many noblemen at this ball tonight; it certainly wasn't to celebrate Caterina's eighteenth birthday. His sister was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. But it was with a small start that he realised he hadn't seen a genuine smile on her face for some time. The polite diplomatic smiles she bestowed upon visiting dignitaries were nothing compared to the natural radiance he remembered from their early days in Narnia. She should smile like that more often.

'Did you have to have one tonight though? We're all waiting for her.' She fixed her younger brother with her dark eyes, turning on the charm that had persuaded men to do far more than what Edmund was about to do. Despite his best efforts to resist, he finally gave in. They owed some of the Lone Islands to those eyes.

'Oh, I'll see if I can find her!' he said. 'I can't promise anything though.'

'Well, hurry up!' Susan gave him a teasing push towards the stairs. 'I can only dance and laugh so much before people start getting bored.'

'Su, you know no one ever gets bored with you.'

'Oh, I don't know.' Despite the smile on her lips, her eyes grew sad and she stepped further away from him, putting a physical barrier between them. He wished he hadn't spoken. 'Just see if you can find her.' She turned away and walked back towards the ballroom, her back straight, her shoulders back, and seemingly the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Edmund hesitated for a moment – it seemed his sister needed him far more than Caterina right now. He should go after her, dance with her, make her feel like she was the most important person in the world. He didn't know when that sadness had crept into her eyes, when those warm smiles had stopped. Probably during all the months and years he'd tried to convince Caterina to behave herself, just this _once. _And now here he was, trotting away down the stairs after her again. Sometimes he wished he could feel like Peter did about Caterina; it would make life so much simpler. Since she'd walked into his life eight years ago, it felt as though he'd done nothing but choose between her and his family. He didn't expect they'd ever understand why he felt eternally bound to the girl with the strange eyes.

* * *

><p><em>The battle was over. As Edmund tested his legs out, all he could keep thinking was that it was over. They'd won. There were whole moments he'd lost or forgotten or blocked out, but the main point was that it was over. Each moment left him feeling lighter and brighter and more himself than he'd felt in – oh, ages. It was like term had ended and it was the first day of the holidays. <em>

_The change didn't go unnoticed. Whilst Lucy moved across the battlefield, helping where she could, and Aslan worked his magic on the people the Witch had turned to stone, Peter took the opportunity to speak to his younger brother. Edmund couldn't remember the last time Peter had spoken to him with anything more than irritation and disdain. He knew that brothers couldn't always get along, and he'd never expected Peter to look after him all the time at school. Just once or twice would have been nice though. Still, the time had passed for holding grudges and Peter seemed equally aware of the gulf between them that was only just starting to close._

'_You... you did really well today, Edmund,' he began hesitantly. He sounded so much older than his thirteen years now. They all did. Edmund had been surprised on his return from the Witch's house how much they all seemed to have grown. Susan was at least two inches taller, whilst Lucy had lost some of her baby-faced roundness. As for himself, a brief glance in the mirror showed him how his eyes had changed. He knew he'd changed anyway. A month ago, he wouldn't have been able to look in the mirror without hating the person he saw. Now he had no idea where all that hatred had come from. _

'_Thanks.'_

'_I mean it. You saved a lot of people.'_

_Edmund shrugged and gestured vaguely around at the battlefield. Fewer people had been lost than originally thought as Lucy and Aslan worked their way through the injured, but there were still notable patches of blood soaking into the grass. The dead had already been carried away to be buried by their own: a centaur, several talking Beasts, some dryads. It didn't feel as though he'd saved lots of people._

'_I'm proud of you, Ed.'_

_Edmund found himself smiling. 'Thanks. Seriously.' It had been so long since he'd said anything genuine to his brother that he felt the need to add, 'Honestly, Pete... thanks. It means a lot that you'd forgive me after -'_

'_Forget it.'_

'_But Peter...' Suddenly Edmund wanted to confess it all to his brother. How he'd wanted so much to be able to let go like Lucy, to embrace Narnia with all his heart. He wondered how much of what had happened was luck. Maybe if he'd bumped into a faun on his first visit to Narnia, things would have been different. Though now he didn't know if he'd have wanted them any other way. He doubted he'd have been standing here with Peter if things had been different. And he was definitely glad that had happened._

_Peter, however, didn't appear to want to hear the end of his brother's confession. 'Ed, honestly. What Aslan said is right. There's no need to talk about it now. You're my brother and that means quite a lot. _You_ mean quite a lot. So... shut up.' He punched him lightly on the arm and laughed. 'Besides, I've seen you with a sword. I don't want to go falling out with you again.'_

_Edmund grinned. 'Father always said I'd find a talent one day. Who'd have thought it would be with a sword?'_

_At the mention of their father they both fell silent. Edmund had spent so much of his time with the Witch longing to be anywhere else and yet all he'd been able to think of was his brother and sisters. Finchley and England and the War seemed a very long way away. He wondered if they'd ever see them again._

_Eventually, Peter spoke. 'Well, I'm going to see how everything's going out there.' He gestured equally as vaguely as Edmund had earlier. 'We should be thinking about where we're going to camp tonight. I don't think we'll make it to Cair Paravel today. What?' he asked, as he saw Edmund grinning at him. 'What?'_

'_You'll make a great king, Peter. The best.'_

_Peter didn't reply but Edmund saw the tips of his ears go pink. As he turned to go, Peter added, 'Oh, Ed? That girl you mentioned?'_

_He didn't need reminding twice. 'Caterina?'_

_Peter smiled. 'I think so. They found her.'_

'_Alive?'_

'_Very much so. She's in that tent.' He gestured to one of the tents they'd tried to sleep in last night. 'Su says she's been very quiet since they rescued her.'_

_The hint was obvious. Whilst Peter's duties lay out on the battlefield, checking his soldiers and making plans, Edmund's lay in a very different direction. As the two brothers went their separate ways, Edmund wondered if he'd ever find himself in a similar situation again._

_The tent was peaceful after the hive of activity outside. A dryad was bathing a dwarf's wounds, and a great jaguar was licking his paw. The only other person in the tent was the girl Edmund had last seen two days ago. It seemed a lifetime. She was sitting on the edge of a low bed, her knuckles white from where she'd wrapped her fingers around the frame, and her head hanging down. Despite her ramrod straight back, she looked exhausted and paler than ever. She certainly didn't look any older than the first time he'd met her._

_As Edmund pulled the tent flap back, the sunlight fell onto Caterina and she looked up. Before he could even speak, she'd blurted out, 'Edmund,' and got to her feet. Some colour flushed into her cheeks but the dark circles under her eyes remained._

'_How are you?' Edmund asked._

'_I'm... fine.' Caterina nodded, and despite the fact it was clearly so untrue, Edmund let it lie. He'd wanted to see her again ever since he'd been rescued that night, leaving her behind. It was unlikely she'd been as bothered as he had – he'd not been the most charming he could have been in the short time he'd known her – but she had seemed pleased to see him. That was something. He was sure she'd open up as time went on. They had plenty of time._

* * *

><p>Edmund thundered down yet another flight of stairs, unsure where he was headed except outdoors. The most logical place was, of course, the stables, but he doubted even Caterina would have risked that dress around horses. Besides, she hadn't been in a particularly logical mood when she walked away from him earlier. If she ever was.<p>

Eight years. It had been eight years and, now Edmund thought about it, he realised he had never once heard her talk about the days before Aslan came. That long bitter winter. Her life before he'd known her. Somehow he'd always imagined she was still settling in, still testing the waters and waiting until she could talk about it properly. Tell him everything that had happened. Now, as he headed out into the chilly spring night air, he wondered if he'd been deluding himself on purpose or by accident. It had been eight years. If she hadn't told him by now, she never would. He couldn't begin to describe how much that hurt.

Then he heard a scream through the darkness and that pain became utterly irrelevant.


	8. Chapter 8: Caterina

**Chapter 8: Caterina**

Caterina had rehearsed this moment in dreams for years. Every time had been different. She knew they were just dreams, they weren't real, there was no reason to expect it would happen like that in real life. But this wasn't how she'd seen it happening. At all.

It was as though the last eight years hadn't happened. Her knees still stinging from where she'd fallen over, she dipped into the low curtsey she'd perfected all those years ago, and the words, however rusty they sounded, were found readily on her tongue. 'Your Majesty.'

Silence. Caterina's eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness and yet still couldn't make out a substantial figure. It was just that voice, which seemed to come from all around her. Maybe she was hearing things, going mad. Then it came again.

'Caterina.' It was hard and cold, cutting through the now bitter night air in the orchard. It spoke of freezing winters and chill winds, darkened rooms and air thick with fear and death. It spoke of home. 'You have been a long time coming, my child.'

'I... I know.' She swallowed hard. 'But... if you please, your Majesty... I had no idea. I thought...'

'You thought I was dead.' The voice spoke matter-of-factly, accepting the fate bestowed upon it. 'You poor innocent Daughter of Eve. Whoever heard of a witch who ever really died?' Without waiting for an answer, the voice continued. 'You certainly wasted no time in replacing me. "Your Majesty" is an overused term these days.'

Caterina's thoughts turned back to the castle. She should go back. She should warn them, she should...

'Your loyalty always was an issue. Humans are so untrustworthy. I taught you that if nothing else.' As Caterina started, the voice continued, 'You never could hide anything from me, Caterina. I saw your face the day that brat arrived. Barely more than a child and already betraying those who had brought you up. If I had a heart, it would have broken.'

Finding her voice finally, Caterina ventured, much more boldly than she felt, 'What do you want? Why now?'

'I have been waiting for a long time, out in the Western Wild. Ha! Your _friends_ thought they had searched everywhere. Fools! If the Great Cat Aslan was unable to defeat me, what made them think they could?' The self-satisfied tone was so familiar that Caterina's stomach lurched uncontrollably and she slumped down to the ground again. At once, the voice turned its attention back towards her, speaking in a softer tone. 'Oh my poor child. It has been a very long time. Here. Drink.'

A gleaming goblet filled with a steaming drink appeared inches from Caterina's feet. It smelt of everything she remembered from the days before the Pevensies. Guilt flooded through her body yet she still reached for the goblet and took a long drink. Her stomach settled instantly.

'There. Better?'

She nodded. 'But I still don't understand.'

'Oh Caterina. It is really very simple. Do you not remember why you are here? Oh, I know you have tried to forget but it comes back, every night, in your dreams. Do you not remember why I spared your life that night?'

It was as though the words had opened a door in Caterina's head. The memory flooded out of it, unchecked and unbidden. And Caterina remembered why she'd pushed it aside for so long.

* * *

><p><em>The wood fell silent again as the beating wings died away. For several moments, Caterina had been unsure which way was up in the world and she had lost track of who she was and what was happening. Then there came a great silence. And then low laughter. Finding she was once again able to move, she raised her head to look at where her guardian and the dwarf were standing. They were alone. Edmund had gone.<em>

_ She had no time to consider how she felt about that as her guardian called her name, sounding irritated._

_ 'Caterina? Is she still here? Find her!'_

_ Caterina heard the dwarf's whip swishing through the bushes and she knew that any hope she had of remaining hidden was fading by the minute. She stood up. 'I'm here, your Majesty.'_

_ 'Come here!'_

_ She obeyed. She couldn't remember a time when she ever hadn't done so. Disobedience just didn't enter her head, and her feet moved without any bidding from her. It was because of this that she felt a sharp pain deep inside her when the Queen ordered the dwarf to tie her hands together and hold onto the end of the rope. For one of the first times she could ever remember, she found her voice and challenged her guardian._

_ 'Please, your Majesty, please can't I -'_

_ 'Silence!' The Queen turned on her, her eyes blazing furiously in the moonlight. 'Whoever gave you the right to speak to me like that?'_

_ Caterina dropped her gaze to the floor and didn't speak again. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage in a way it never had before. So much had changed since yesterday and her mind was only just beginning to catch up with events. Her life had always been straightforward, stable, calm. She had seen it continuing as it ever had. Now this. Her ten-year-old brain struggled to find some way of putting it all in order. Right now, she was only aware of two things: Edmund had come. Edmund had gone._

_ The Queen and the dwarf now talked in lowered voices, urgently. Caterina could make out little of what they were saying, apart from the odd raised word. _

'_... kept as a prisoner?...'_

'_... still might help...'_

'_... the brat was rescued...'_

'_... a second prophesy...'_

'_... killed...'_

'_... a better way...'_

_Caterina leaned back against the nearest tree, her legs suddenly tired from the walking they'd done that day. She couldn't remember ever having walked so far; much of her life had been spent within the grounds of the Queen's house, often forbidden to even venture outside into the many courtyards. Journeys through the surrounding hills and forests had been rare and she had always treasured these glimpses of her guardian's kingdom. A kingdom she might one day inherit from what she had gathered of the whispered hints over the years. She had no idea when that day would come, or if it even would now that Edmund had arrived. Perhaps the two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve would prevent whatever plans her guardian had made for her future. For she was certain there would be some plans._

_ Lost in her thoughts, Caterina was startled when the rope around her hands tightened and jerked her forwards. She stumbled to her knees and had to hastily recover her balance to prevent herself from being dragged along the ground by the dwarf. The Queen regarded her with a mixture of disgust and interest, and Caterina did all she could to maintain the latter, throwing her shoulders back and drawing herself up to her not inconsiderable height._

_ 'Caterina.' The word wasn't said with the previous anger. It was the tone Caterina had grown up with, a faint irritation mixed with a vague concern for her charge. 'Listen carefully.' The Queen raised her wand and Caterina realised that that dreadful knife had disappeared. 'Very soon our people will be here. You will travel back with some of them to my house. Wait there until I come.'_

_ Without hesitation, Caterina curtsied. 'Yes, your Majesty.'_

_ The Queen raised a hand now. 'But pay attention. Once you reach my house you must open this letter.' Now she handed Caterina a single sheet of paper. The girl took it and unconsciously began to __break the seal. 'No! You must only open it at my house. And Caterina? Follow the instructions within that letter closely. I am relying on you. Do not fail me.'_

* * *

><p>Caterina closed her eyes at the memory of what had been within that letter. It had been brief and to the point. <em>Kill the brat<em>. No room for misinterpretation. When she first opened it, she had at least thought that following the instructions would be straightforward. And yet here she was...

'And yet here you are, eight years later... and still he lives, grows into a young man, a real king.' The Queen's voice taunted her cruelly. 'Rarely have I been so disappointed. And by you, of all people.'

Unsure what she was saying anymore, Caterina stuttered, 'I'm s-s-sorry, your Majesty.'

There was a long pause in which space Caterina realised that she _was_ sorry. Sorry to have let down the person who had given her everything in life. Without the Queen she would have been no-one. Her origins in life were unknown, unremembered, but she felt certain she would never have found herself living in the luxury she did now if the Queen had not raised her. To think she had failed her in such a way. One simple thing she was asked to do and she hadn't managed it.

'No matter.'

Caterina raised her head at the unexpected response. 'Your Majesty?'

'I see you have seen the error of your ways, my child. And that you will do all in your power to avoid disappointing me again.' Caterina slowly nodded. 'Good. As it happens, your current position may afford you greater opportunities than ever to fulfil your destiny. After all, what is killing one king when you can tear apart two? Yes, Caterina... you may yet impress me.'

'Tear apart... two?'

A low chuckle spread around the orchard. 'Oh Caterina. You cannot have failed to notice the effect you have on the men you meet. Yes, even when you were a child... It may be that your natural talents will help you now. The brat is certainly already within your grasp. His brother is not beyond you.'

Caterina frowned. 'You mean...?'

'Two brothers torn apart by the same girl. Distracted from their duties at the time their kingdom most needs them. Just in time for the true ruler, the true power, to re-emerge in full glory.' The voice broke into a low chuckle again. 'Oh how I will fall upon them!' Abruptly, the chuckle stopped. The voice turned matter-of-fact again. 'And now you must go.'

'Go?' Caterina suddenly felt as though she was being thrust out into a wild world where nothing made sense. It would be true happiness to be allowed to stay here, in this small quarter of the orchard, listening to that voice forever. To be cast aside so suddenly gave her a small jolt inside.

'The brat will soon be looking for you. It would not do to reveal myself too soon.' The Queen suddenly seemed to take pity on Caterina. 'Oh my child. It will not be for long. Soon you will walk by my side, the true heir to everything, a princess of Narnia. But first, you must fulfil your promise. I will be here, every evening, waiting for you. You will not fail me again. Now, go!'

With feet like lead, Caterina turned and left the dark corner of the orchard. With each step, she could feel the air around her changing, warming up and becoming full of the noises of a spring evening. The sound of the ball in the castle drifted towards her on the breeze. She was back in the real world and she wondered if that had all just happened.

A pattering of feet announced the return of Finn, tail lashing wildly. He bounded towards her and Caterina readied herself to be bowled over, no longer considering Susan's creation in her desire to touch something tangible. Metres before he reached her, Finn skidded to a halt, his ears flying back and a joyful bark changing to a high-pitched whine. He sat back on his haunches and regarded her suspiciously.

'Finn...' Caterina took a step towards him, holding her hand out. 'It's me... look.' She moved her hand and went for the spot he loved, behind his left ear. 'See, there's nothing to be afraid-' She broke off as the dog's teeth sank into her arm and she was unable to contain her scream of pain.


	9. Chapter 9: Edmund

_This chapter is rather shorter than I remembered or expected. Never mind. I am trying to press on with this but accidentally started a new Doctor Who fanfic... whoops. Still... I should be back to work soon and then it's only 6 weeks until summer..._

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 9: Edmund<span>**

'Cat!' Edmund was relieved to see her standing as he charged towards her, sword in hand. There didn't seem to be anybody around either. He had no idea what he had expected to find when he ran towards her, yet he found himself relieved that she was by herself. Specifically, that Lord Asriel was nowhere near her. Edmund's distrust of the older man ran deep.

Now, though, he saw the flash of scarlet on Caterina's wrist and he raised his sword once again. 'What's happened?' he demanded as he reached her side and glanced into the dark. 'Cat? Who did that to you?' Caterina was gazing at the wound on her wrist in wonder. Her green eyes, usually so clear and piercing, looked confused and lost. She hadn't even the sense to attempt to stem the bleeding, Edmund thought, and he pressed her harder. 'Cat!' She glanced at him as though only just seeing him. 'What happened?'

'Oh... I...'

'Who did that?'

'Finn...'

'Finn?' Edmund repeated in complete shock, and as he did so, the lurcher suddenly drew his attention with a flash of grey fur and a wet nose at his hand. He turned and raised his sword towards the animal, who cowered, whimpering and whining. His muzzle was indeed coated in blood and yet Edmund could have sworn that it was fear and not malice in the dog's eyes. Still. A dog who bit humans was no good to anybody. His sword began to move.

'No!' Forgetting her wound completely, Caterina caught his arm and pulled it back, surprisingly strongly. 'No, Ed, it's not his fault, he...'

'He what?'

'He was scared, I don't think he recognised me, he... he didn't mean it.'

Edmund looked again at the dog who was crouched on the ground, tail tucked away and ears back. He crouched down and gingerly reached to pet the animal, who initially cringed away from his hand but then rose to meet him, venturing a hesitant lick. There certainly seemed to be no danger here. But to have attacked Caterina... he was devoted to her, trailed her around from dawn until dusk if he was given the opportunity. Edmund turned back to his best friend, meaning to question her further.

That was until he saw the blood still pouring from her wound. Dropping his sword, he grasped her arm. 'Cat, your arm!' He tried and failed to find a spare piece of material to wrap around her arm. 'You're bleeding everywhere.'

'It's fine.' Caterina pulled her arm away, but now winced as she applied some pressure to the bite wound. 'See, it's... stopping,' she said hopefully, even as a fresh wave of scarlet trickled between her fingers. 'It's nothing serious, honestly.'

Edmund frowned. 'It looks fairly serious to me. You need to get inside and get that seen to, Cat.'

'But the ball... the bonfire...'

He gave her a look. 'Since when did any of that matter to you?'

'Since... always.' The words sounded fake and forced, and yet Edmund found himself leaning towards her voice. 'I... I was looking forward to dancing. With you.' A blush rose on her cheeks, bringing some colour back to her pale face. 'I'm sorry, Edmund. About before.'

For a moment, the young king looked at his best friend. She met his gaze easily and steadily. It was the first time he had ever known her apologise so readily and genuinely. She never once looked away from him. Deep down inside of him, something felt wrong.

'Ed?' Her voice took that thought away.

He shook himself. 'It doesn't matter,' he insisted. 'There'll be plenty of time for dancing. We need to get that arm seen to.' A glance down at her dress showed that she couldn't possibly return to the celebrations like that. 'The servants' staircase,' he said decisively, resheathing his sword and taking her other arm. 'We'll find Lena, get her to bandage it up and disguise it or something.'

Caterina nodded and there was a strange sensation that she was actually _allowing_ him to lead her towards the kitchen door. Finn, he noticed, stayed well back, ears still pinned back and every muscle tensed for flight.

At the door, Edmund let her arm drop. 'Will you be okay from here? I need to go and cover for you at the ball.'

She nodded again. 'I'll be fine.'

'Take your time. We can cover for as long as you need.' He knew he was promising things he couldn't possibly deliver, but she didn't need to know that. 'Make sure you get that wound cleaned properly,' he continued, 'and you should probably change your dress while you're there. We'll say Finn jumped up at you or something.'

A small smile appeared on Caterina's lips and she placed a hand on his arm. 'It'll be fine,' she said gently and then, not entirely naturally, she placed a light kiss on his cheek. 'Thank you, Edmund.'

She was gone before the heat had died out of Edmund's cheek. He turned to find Finn, lying on the ground, gazing at where his mistress had gone and yet unable to muster the courage to go after her. The sick feeling returned to Edmund's stomach.


	10. Chapter 10: Peter

**Chapter 10: Peter**

'King Peter. Your Majesty.' The older man swept an impressive and theatrical bow as Peter turned to look at him. 'A most magnificent evening, sire, one you should be congratulated upon.'

Peter regarded Lord Asriel closely before he spoke. He had watched the man's movements throughout the evening, as he mingled with the other noblemen in attendance, and more than one young lady. To Peter's relief, Lucy had been beneath the lord's attentions, and Susan had found herself kept more than busy on the dancefloor with a number of visiting dukes and princes. Neither of his sisters had had the misfortune to share even a single dance with Asriel. That could only be a good thing, and he certainly wasn't going to risk a meeting between them now.

'I will pass your comments onto Queen Susan and Queen Lucy.'

'Please do.'

At length, Peter tired of the silence the older man had left. Content in the knowledge that the castle was fully fortified, he risked being a little rude. Being king had to come with some perks, after all, and ridding himself of a suspicious lord after a very long day and night had to be one of them. 'Is there anything else, Lord Asriel, or shall we retire to bed now?'

'Well, actually, sire, there is something.'

Peter refrained from groaning. 'If this is to do with policy...' he began, unwilling to discuss anything relating to the kingdom with this man at so late an hour.

'Oh no, your Majesty, nothing of such great importance.' Lord Asriel flashed a smile. He was said to be very handsome and there were rumours of several young servant women leaving his castle in something like disgrace. Peter knew he should be investigating those stories further and, for the second time that day, he had the sense of having let someone down.

'So?'

Lord Asriel cleared his throat. 'It is a much more personal topic I wish to speak on, your Majesty. One appertaining to myself.' Peter raised his eyebrows. 'A proposal, sire. A marriage proposal.'

Peter stalled for time. 'I don't think I'm your type, Lord Asriel.' _Marriage?_

Lord Asriel laughed. 'Very good, your Majesty. But I was actually thinking of someone else.' _You don't say?_ 'A member of your household.'

Peter prepared his arguments. Lucy was far too young, that was plain and clear. Sixteen was too young for marriage, particularly to this sophisticated and sinister man. There would be no arguing with that point. Susan, though. His mind raced as he considered how to protect his beautiful sister from such a fate. She had dazzled tonight as she waltzed around the dancefloor, dark hair gleaming and a smile never far from her lips. It was only natural that she should receive some proposals. Perhaps he could lie, say she was considering other men as they spoke, that she was in high demand. It seemed the only option.

When Asriel spoke, it took several seconds for Peter to realise what was being said. 'Your ward, Caterina. I am right in thinking she is not currently betrothed?'

Caterina. _Caterina_. He had watched her dancing with this man earlier that night, the only man she had accepted a dance with all evening. Ball after ball had passed over the years with the girl having to be all but forced onto the dancefloor. This evening, Peter had watched her take Lord Asriel's hand almost without hesitation. Later, when she had returned following a change of dress, the lord had again appeared at her side and the two had conducted a hushed conversation. Caterina. Of course.

'You are correct.'

Asriel nodded slowly. 'I do wonder where you have been keeping her hidden all this time, sire, she quite brightened the room up this evening.'

'She does not usually like to be the centre of attention.' Even tonight, she had spent a great deal of time outside, supposedly walking with Edmund, although Peter doubted that somewhat. His younger brother had been in a decidedly bad mood all evening and time spent with Caterina usually remedied that.

'A pity.'

There was a silence which Peter eventually felt obliged to fill. 'Am I to consider this a formal proposal of marriage then? I was unaware you were well acquainted with Caterina.'

'I have seen all I need to.'

It would be very simple to sign her over to this man, Peter thought. She was eighteen and eligible to marry. What's more, she was no longer his responsibility and to have her gone from the castle would be more than he could have hoped for. Asriel's house in the Western Woods was a day's ride away; she would all but have vanished from his life. It was a match he could only have dreamed of making.

And yet... Peter regarded the older man. He was considered one of the most eligible lords, having lost his wife some years previously. The age gap between him and Caterina was considerable; she could easily have been mistaken for his daughter. Peter knew that many marriages thrived on less fertile ground, but he wondered if this would be one of them. And then there were those rumours, of servants and slaves and trees in Lantern Waste. Knowing all of that, Peter wondered if he could possibly let Caterina marry this man so easily. _What would Aslan say?_

'Make a written petition,' he said now, employing his last reserves of energy in order to sound as confident as he could. 'I will of course have to discuss the matter with my brother and sisters... and Caterina herself...'

Lord Asriel raised his eyebrows in amusement. 'Asking Caterina? A very novel idea, sire.'

'That is how things will be done in Narnia now,' Peter replied firmly. 'However it was done whilst you were exiled, it will not be done now.' _Exiled_ was putting it mildly, he felt. Asriel was, however, only one of the great Narnian families who had deserted the land when the White Witch had taken power, living out generations in Archenland and further afield. It still irked Peter that these men, many of whom he actually liked, had left the people of Narnia to struggle for so long whilst they were safe and content abroad.

'Very good, your Majesty. Although it rather makes me grateful I have a son rather than a daughter. I shall have that petition delivered to you shortly, sire. I bid you goodnight.'


	11. Chapter 11: Susan

**Chapter 11: Susan**

The ballroom always looked smaller when it was empty of people. Looking around now, it was hard to believe that only hours before it had hosted one of the largest balls of recent years in Narnia. Now the floor was scuffed and the flowers were beginning to wilt. There would be a lot of work to do in the morning.

Susan hated the end of an evening like this. It was unusual for her to revisit the ballroom until the following day, when it was returned to its former glory and any memories of the night before were beginning to fade. Normally, she would have gone straight to her bedchamber, where no doubt Lucy was waiting even now to share the gossip of the night.

As she crossed the ballroom, the smell of the bonfire still caught in her hair, Susan was unsure why she was lingering here, amongst the tired decorations and dying garlands. If she had been hoping to raise her spirits before going to bed, she was sadly disappointed. If she'd hoped she might find something positive to take away from the evening, she was also left feeling let down. Even her peach gown had lost its lustre and she intended to pack it away tomorrow, out of sight and out of mind.

The ball had passed without incident and, thanks to Edmund, Caterina had returned for the bonfire which had equally been deemed a success. Susan had enjoyed many dances throughout the evening and the guests had retired to bed with smiles and laughter. There was no real reason for her to have been left feeling so disheartened. One man hadn't asked her to dance, that was all. There was no real issue here. So why did she feel so miserable? Leaning against one of the great pillars surrounding the ballroom, she gave a heavy sigh.

'Goodness, there's an unhappy sound.'

Susan started, letting out a little squeal of shock as she tried to identify where the voice came from. Footsteps had approached her before she could locate the person and a hand touched her on the arm, making her jump again.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.' She looked up to find herself looking into the blue eyes of the golden-faced stranger. They were etched with concern now. 'Are you alright?'

Susan nodded mutely for a moment, before remembering who she was and how this man had been stalking around her castle long after he should have been in bed. With a defiant toss of her head, she said, 'Perfectly fine, thank you. You may remove your hand.'

He took a step backwards. 'Okay. I'm... sorry.'

'Your Majesty.' Susan raised her eyebrows, challenging him to reject such niceties as that.

'Your Majesty,' he agreed, giving a small bow. 'I apologise, your Majesty.'

She gave him an imperious look, taking in his solid chest and long limbs. 'What exactly do you think you're doing, roaming around the castle this late at night? Have you not been shown to your rooms?'

'I find it difficult to sleep in strange places,' he replied, and the honesty in his voice drew Susan in despite her best intentions to remain aloof. 'I thought the ballroom would be empty. And then I heard you and...' He tailed off before adding, 'I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll leave you alone.'

He turned to go and for the second time that evening, Susan found her heart quicken and her mouth act before she could stop it.

'Don't!' Far too late, she continued, 'I mean... you don't have to go, if you don't want to. You could... stay.'

'Do you want me to?' His eyebrows moved slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitched. 'Because if you don't, I can go, just say the words, I would hate to stay against your wishes, just say-'

'Stop! Stay... if you want.' Susan rolled her eyes and fought against smiling. 'It's fine by me.'

'Good.' The stranger's face broke into a smile as he leaned against the pillar next to her. 'So... what brings you here so late at night?'

'It's my ballroom,' she reminded him.

'True. Although I believe most of the castle belongs to you and so...' The smile dropped a little. 'I meant what I said. That really was an unhappy sound you made.' He fixed her with those blue eyes. 'Can I help?'

'You?' Susan couldn't keep the note of surprise out of her voice. 'How could you help?'

He shrugged. 'I can listen. Maybe I could do something to make you happier.'

'I don't even know you! And anyway... I don't need to be made happier, I'm not sad, I'm... fine.' She forced a smile to prove her point.

'Then why doesn't your smile reach your eyes?'

Susan gaped at his words. 'I... Who are you? What gives you the right to speak to a Queen of Narnia in such a way?' Her dark eyes flashed angrily. 'I really think you should be going to your room now before...'

The stranger raised his hands in surrender and stepped away. 'I'm going. No need to call the royal guard or whoever. I apologise.' Then, as if he had to say it, whatever the consequences, 'But if you ever find you're not fine, I'm ready to help. All you have to do is call.' He turned to leave.

Susan watched him go, anger and longing mingling in equal amounts. She should call him back, demand the proper respect from him – not even a bow to suggest he felt any sort of gesture was due from him as he left a queen.

Finally she found her tongue. 'Wait!' The stranger stopped still and glanced over his shoulder at her. 'I... I don't know your name.'

The slow smile spread across his face again. 'You can call me Nate,' he replied.

Susan nodded. 'Good night then... Nate.'

'Good night Susan.

**END OF PART ONE**


	12. Chapter 12: Peter

**Part 2**

**Chapter 12: Peter**

The sunlight streamed through the glass windows in the morning room. It caught on the silverware on the table and bounced off the white linen tablecloths. It made the russet-tones in Susan's hair glimmer and gave both Caterina and Lucy's hair the appearance of spun gold. It was going to be another beautiful day.

Peter looked around at the small family breakfast they were having before their guests woke up. When it had been suggested, he'd never expected it to actually happen. He'd assumed at least one member would be missing. But there Caterina was, green eyes twinkling as she and Edmund exchanged whispers about something they were finding utterly hysterical. If they were hoping to be discreet, they were failing miserably as they aimed snide kicks at each other and dissolved into giggles at random intervals. Clearly the injury on her arm that they had been so vague about last night was not troubling her this morning.

Lucy was being equally as loud in her own way, as she enthusiastically regaled the table with stories of the night before. It seemed she had had a good evening and had awoken this morning with her joy still intact. The fact that almost nobody at the table was listening to the sixteen-year-old had completely bypassed her.

Susan, sat at the opposite end of the table from Peter, was her characteristically quiet self. She smiled graciously as the food was brought in from the kitchen and her face stayed beautifully serene in the face of both her younger siblings' chatter and noise. Peter often wondered how she managed it. The very sound of both Lucy and Edmund's voices was grating on him this morning. Lord Asriel's proposal had kept him awake long into the night and the two very last things he wanted to do this morning were to listen to a re-hash of last night or see the golden-haired source of his troubles behaving quite so improperly at breakfast.

'It's such a shame we can't have something like that more often, perhaps once a week,' Lucy was saying now, her face quite downhearted at the very real prospect of there being no balls until Christmas. 'It would very much lift the spirits of the kingdom, Peter.'

'I wasn't aware they needed lifting,' Peter replied. 'Unless you know something I don't?' Because of her trustworthy face and genuine interest in people, Lucy was often the best source of news from the kingdom at large. Peter disliked the word 'gossip', with its negative connotations, although he partially feared his younger sister may be becoming one.

'Oh, not about that.' She shook her head, golden waves shimmering. Whilst Susan's dark hair was neatly tucked away, and even Caterina had made some effort to tame her blonde curls, Lucy favoured the natural look. It wasn't that it didn't suit her, and she was only sixteen, but Peter sometimes wondered when she would begin to take on more of the bearing of a queen. There was something so lively and animated about her that didn't seem conducive to making reasoned, sensible decisions about matters of state and policy.

Now she shot him a mischievous grin. 'I have however heard one thing which might surprise you.'

'Oh yes?' Peter spoke in the absence of anyone else doing so. He glared at Edmund and Caterina briefly, and tried to give Susan a more encouraging look, only he suspected he wasn't quite quick enough and he'd mixed the two looks up. Anyway, neither party showed by so much as a flicker that they'd even noticed.

'Lord Asriel's son has returned to Narnia.' Lucy gave a delighted giggle.

The very name silenced even Edmund and Caterina, who both glanced towards Lucy.

'Lord Asriel? A son?' Edmund voiced his disbelief. 'I didn't even know he had one.'

'He's been living abroad for a few years,' Lucy continued, in the voice of an expert as she carelessly buttered a slice of toast. 'He only returned earlier this month.'

'Peter? Did you know anything about this?' Edmund looked to his older brother.

'I'd heard he had a son,' Peter admitted now, remembering the vague rumours he'd heard circulating over the years he had been king. Long after the lords of Narnia had returned to the kingdom from wherever they had hidden in exile, the mythical son of Asriel had stayed away. There had been all sorts of whispers over where he had been all this time, and whether he was still even alive. The rumours had continued for so long that even those who enjoyed gossip had all but dismissed them as nothing more than a story. 'At least, I heard he had _had_ a son. Whilst his family were in exile. There was never any real proof he even existed.'

'Well there's proof now,' Lucy put in.

'A rumour from a faun doesn't mean it's true,' Edmund responded drily and more than a little cruelly.

Lucy pulled a face at him. 'I never said it was a rumour from a faun, did I? If you must know, I met him last night. I danced with him.' Rarely had she ever looked so satisfied with herself.

'Well you danced with a great many men last night, Lucy, I'm surprised you can remember individual details.'

The whole table turned to look at Susan in a stunned silence. She had been so quiet all morning, as was her way, but now she had roused herself to say something uncharacteristically nasty to her younger sister. Peter saw Lucy's face flit between anger and utter devastation at her sister's comments, whilst Caterina gazed at her idol with something akin to horror. Peter felt it was his job to say something, but before he could, Susan had risen from her seat.

'I must prepare to see the guests off,' she said, as calmly as though her previous comment had never been said. 'Please excuse me.' She swept away from the table and out of the morning room before anyone could say a word.

'Well. That was... strange.' Edmund glanced across at Lucy and their early acrimony was lost. 'Are you okay, Lu?'

She nodded and looked towards Peter. Her large eyes had become even larger now, stripping her back to the little girl she'd been when they first arrived in Narnia. Peter felt infinitely more charitable towards her than he had done earlier; despite her affectations and giddy ways, she was still Lucy Pevensie, his little sister, and he loved her. Right now she needed him to say something comforting, about how Susan hadn't meant it, about how she was probably just tired. She needed her big brother.

He finished chewing the mouthful of toast he had and then turned to Edmund. 'If Asriel has a son, we should keep a close watch on him. The last thing we need is for that man to be made stronger.'

In the last few minutes, the bright atmosphere in the morning room had changed to a stilted and tense silence. The silence continued a few seconds longer, as Edmund gaped at his brother's words.

Lucy stood up abruptly, shaking the table a little. 'May I be excused, please?' she asked, and Peter could hear the catch in her voice which was like a stab to his stomach. 'I... I need to... get ready.'

When Peter didn't reply, Edmund nodded his assent and she left equally as hastily as Susan had done. As soon as the door had closed behind her, Peter felt his younger brother's gaze turn onto him.

'Well that was badly done,' he remarked.

'I didn't ask for your opinion,' Peter replied as calmly as he could. 'And I don't remember you being put in charge of the breakfast table.'

'I only stepped in because you were doing such a bad job of it!' Edmund glared at him. 'Lucy wanted some comfort, Peter, and you just ignored her!'

'As you were doing all morning! You and Caterina have barely listened to a word she's said, and now you want to act like I'm the one who has the problem?'

'Caterina and I were simply talking, which was more than you or Susan were doing! We don't all like to begin the morning in stony silence, Peter!'

Before Peter could fire back another angry reply, another voice broke in. An unexpected one.

'Perhaps we were a little rude,' Caterina said now, her voice unusually calm and apologetic. Peter couldn't remember ever having heard her speak in such a tone before. Perhaps this was the Caterina his siblings, especially Edmund, had known all these years. Now she gave him a small but seemingly genuine smile. 'We should have been paying more attention, your Majesty, and I apologise.' She gave Edmund a slightly more dazzling smile as she too pushed her chair away from the table. 'I'll get out of your way.' She bobbed a curtsey at Peter before leaving the morning room.

Something was definitely going on in this castle today.


	13. Chapter 13: Edmund

**Last few weeks have been very hectic so updating has been impossible. I'll try to be more reliable in future.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Edmund<strong>

The words in the book in front of Edmund swam before his eyes. He knew he should take a break. Sitting staring at the same page over and over for hours was getting him nowhere. Peter had really wanted this done, though, and he knew that his brother had equally as much work to do as anyone. He'd delegated this work to the younger king and Edmund knew that he'd been trusted to do it. It just wasn't all that easy when the sun was shining in through the window of his study and Caterina had been sitting perfectly still all day.

He allowed himself to glance up from his desk at where she was now. To the untrained eye, she was the perfect picture of serenity. Her hair was pinned back from her face, falling in glossy waves down her back. Her eyes had lost their usual piercing quality and were, like the sea outside, calm aqua pools. Even her dress, a sea-blue silk gown, gave off an air of peace and co-ordinated beautifully with the rich royal blue of his study. If she was a painting, she'd be titled something such as 'Gentlewoman, reading.' Simple, to the point, uncomplicated.

Only Edmund knew those were three things she wasn't. For possibly the first time since they had moved into Cair Paravel, he had been awake before she was. Lena had rolled her eyes conspiratorially at him when he arrived at her rooms to see if she was planning on attending Peter's family breakfast. He'd assumed the maid's action meant that her mistress had once again vanished before anyone had seen her that morning. Instead, she'd been fast asleep when Lena had gone into her room and was only now, sleepily, agreeing to the bath she'd been offered. She'd be late for breakfast as usual, but at least she wouldn't be covered in sand.

Her late start meant that she hadn't had time for her usual morning ride, and Edmund had expected her to disappear shortly after breakfast and not reappear until dinner time. Not even her injured arm would hold her back, he was sure. It was with some surprise that he had found her sitting in his study that morning, peacefully reading a book. The room had become almost her second home in the last few years, as he had spent more and more time in there, but he could never remember a time when she had been there before him. Usually she'd arrive without announcement or explanation, her hair wilder than ever, and would move restlessly around the room for several minutes, before finally resigning herself to a window seat or chair with a book.

It had now been three hours since Edmund had sat down with the book in front of him. There was some squabble amongst the fawns up by Beaversdam and he was supposed to be investigating their various rights. It was something to do with ownership of the land and who it had belonged to once upon a time. Edmund would have been inclined to tell them to sort it out themselves, but he knew Peter would never agree to that. He was certain if he just kept trawling through these pages he'd find some mention of a scrap of land near what was now known as Beaversdam but had subsequently been called Aslan only knew what. It was only a matter of time until he alighted upon the correct paragraph and everything was sorted.

In the meantime, he looked back across at Caterina. Still no movement, no sign that she was in any way bored with her activities this morning. Edmund knew he should find the peace in the room conducive to his studying, but instead he found himself more on edge than ever. Finally, he had no option but to break the silence.

'Is that a good book?'

There was a very delayed reaction to his words. Caterina raised her head slowly and gave him a quizzical smile. 'What?'

'That book.' Edmund gestured awkwardly. When had he ever started feeling awkward around Caterina? 'It must be good, you've been reading it all morning.'

She glanced down at the book almost as though she'd only just noticed she had it. 'This? It's... alright.' Placing the book down on the windowsill, she gave him another smile. 'So what have you been doing?'

He couldn't stifle the laughter.

'What?'

'Nothing. It's just... when have you ever been interested in what I'm working on?' Never in all the time he'd known her had Caterina shown any interest in what he was doing. Unless it involved a voyage overseas, she had no desire to know about state business.

'I could start.'

'It wouldn't interest you.'

'I'm not a child!' For a moment, the serene facade slipped and her eyes flashed emerald. 'I'm eighteen now!'

This Edmund could handle. Where Caterina had always had the power to calm animals, he'd almost always had the ability to calm her down. True, they were still liable to have slight spats and rows, but if anyone had been able to get her to behave in a manner befitting a king's ward, it had been him. Now, he utilised the soft soothing voice he'd always found so effective before.

'Cat, I didn't say you were a child. I just meant it's not very interesting. _I'm_ not really that interested so I'm not inflicting it on someone else!'

For a few seconds, the animated Caterina remained. Then she seemed to fade, almost sinking back into the calm patient girl who had been around all morning. She smiled. 'Then why don't you give it a break? You've been working just as long as I've been reading. Come for a walk or something.'

It was tempting. The day was as beautiful as the one before and his head was starting to ache with the hours of study he'd already put in. A walk in the fresh air would probably clear his head and leave him refreshed to continue examining the finer and more boring points of faun law. He was also anxious to make sure that Caterina did something other than sit staring blindly at a book all day. Ever since she'd been bitten last night, she'd been acting strangely. Not altogether unpleasantly, he mused, thinking about the kiss she'd given him last night and the more than warm smiles she'd aimed in his direction throughout breakfast. At least her arm didn't seem to be hurting her. It was just so unlike her to invite him out anywhere with her. Even when they were first at the castle, just children, if she had wanted to go somewhere, she went without him. There were many times he'd found her waiting in this room for him, or turned around to find her almost stepping on his heels, but there many more times when he'd glanced up from a book to find she'd vanished from the spot she'd been in moments before. She'd certainly never offered in such a pleasant tone.

And yet... Peter was relying on him to do this. In fact, Peter had handed this to him over a week ago and this was the first day he had so much as sat down with the intention of investigating it. His older brother had looked so stressed recently; this morning was only the tip of the iceberg. Under normal circumstances, Peter would never have brushed Lucy off like that. If solving this problem with the fauns would alleviate some of the pressure on the High King, Edmund felt it was the least he could do.

He'd expected a scene from Caterina, but without him even speaking, she'd stood up. 'Obviously I can't tempt you.' She sounded jovial, not a hint of hurt or anger. That was unusual too. 'I suppose I better leave you to it then.'

'What are you going to do?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know. I'll find something. I'll come and see you later.'

The door closed behind her and there were the faint sounds of nails clicking against the stone floor in the corridor as Finn padded after his mistress, unable to keep his distance even as small growls rumbled around his body. Edmund tried to turn his attention back to the book in front of him. He largely failed in that attempt.


	14. Chapter 14: Susan

**It has been a very long time since I updated this. Life took over, as did my RENT fanfic. I now have two stories on the go, but I'll post when I can. I fancied me some fantasy after reading Twilight of Avalon and The Hunger Games, and cracked through about 5 more chapters of this. Hope those who are still interested enjoy it.**

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><p>Most days, Queen Susan went to bed feeling that she'd done a good job and generally happy with her life. Whilst her brothers dealt with matters to do with state and finance, she knew that her role was to be the welcoming face of Narnia, the perfect hostess and charming queen. Most days she felt she'd played that role well.<p>

This evening, she could barely wait to be on her own to let her smile fall and the bright colour in her cheeks die down. Peter's grand breakfast seemed to fulfil his idea of appropriate family behaviour for the day, and she was grateful to be able to slip away from her brother as soon as the last guests had departed from the castle that afternoon. She had done her duty and now she wanted to be by herself to try to understand what had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

The guests had left in a steady stream throughout the day, their horses fussing in the stableyard until they were finally able to set out for home. The castle had been kept busy all day as servants were required to serve dozens of separate breakfasts, help the guests dress, carry luggage and prepare carriages. Susan wondered how they had remained so cheerful as the same maid was sent up the same staircase for at least the fifth time as one particular guest rejected yet another platter of food. She'd shot Peter a look.

'What?'

'Aren't you going to say something?' Susan gestured after the maid. 'They can't keep demanding something different, it's ridiculous!'

'They're your guests.' For a moment, Peter let that thought settle into the silence. Then, 'I didn't mean that. But you're far better at this kind of thing than I am, Su. This is your area. You look the part and everything.'

She knew she did, with her golden gown and glowing skin. In contrast, Peter looked uncomfortable and as though he'd rather be anywhere than wishing their guests farewell. Whilst she'd sent her best wishes to families or absent relatives, he'd given each person a cursory handshake or kiss on the hand, barely cracking into a smile. It was just as well she was there really or the last memory these people would have of Caterina's birthday was a less than warm goodbye. Of course, Caterina ought to be the one doing this, but Susan dreaded to think how that would turn out. She wondered where the birthday girl would fit into the family now that she was old enough to take on proper duties; they weren't exactly in need of a horse whisperer in order to help run the kingdom.

Turning her attention back to the matter in hand, she forced a smile as the Commissioner of Galma and his family began to make their way towards the great Western Door of the castle. 'Well someone has to make the effort,' she said softly.

'Perhaps Lucy could help you in future.'

The Commissioner was upon them before Susan could say anything in response, but a glance from Peter told her all she needed to know. She knew deep down that she'd behaved badly this morning, all but biting her younger sister's head off, and now she was being subtly told off by her older brother. Just occasionally Susan wondered what life would be like if she didn't live in her siblings' pockets.

And so, before she could have some time by herself, she was making her way to her sister's bedchamber, hoping that a brief apology would put right the wrongs she had created that morning. Then she could shut her own chamber door against the rest of the castle and spend some quiet time alone.

She hesitated on the threshold of Lucy's room, her hand raised to knock on the door. Then she let it drop and pushed the door open. She had never knocked on Lucy's door before; they were sisters and, for want of anybody else to fill the role, best friends. She had never needed to ask permission to enter. Today shouldn't be any different.

Lucy was sitting at her desk by the window. Her room looked out over the sea and the salty scent of the ocean drifted in through the open window. She'd been frantically scribbling away in a little book when Susan had entered the room, but as soon as she heard the door creak, the book was slammed shut and hidden in her lap, as she shot her older sister a glare. With her blonde hair completely unpinned now, Susan supposed she could understand just why her younger sister had been so popular last night. Her big blue eyes and clear, sun-kissed skin would appeal to any man, whilst her mouth was attractive, even when it was set into a sulky pout like now. She was sixteen and beautiful and she knew it. Susan couldn't hold that against her.

'Hello Lucy.'

'Hello.' The girl's eyes raked over her sister suspiciously. When Susan said nothing more, she added, 'Did you want something?'

'Not especially.' Susan took a few more uncomfortable steps into the room.

Lucy raised her eyebrows in an extremely pointed way. It was clear she hadn't forgiven her sister for this morning's insult.

With a sigh, Susan said, 'Lucy, I'm sorry about this morning. I was... wrong and I shouldn't have said what I did.' Lucy didn't respond, and so Susan continued, a little desperately as she wondered how else to apologise. 'I was very tired and I am really truly sorry.'

Lucy hesitated. 'Really?'

'Really.'

The cloud lifted from Lucy's golden features and the pout stretched into a smile. 'It's alright.' She stood up and crossed to her bed. 'Come on. You can brush my hair.'

Susan wondered when such an act had become a treat, but she obeyed her younger sister willingly. It was true that many a happy evening had been spent detangling her curls before bed. Susan could just remember how her mother had done the same for her when she was a child. Even the thought of those times in the small house in Finchley brought back unwanted memories, and she concentrated on the blonde head in front of her, teasing the brush through the knots. She had no idea how Lucy managed to get herself into such a mess each day; it was understandable that Caterina would end each day with knots and tangles in that unruly mass of hair, but Lucy had a little more elegance than the older girl. How her hair became so untidy throughout the day, Susan never ceased to wonder.

'Did you not enjoy the ball last night?' The sisters had sat in amiable silence for several minutes, and so the question seemingly came from nowhere. Susan was glad that Lucy's back was towards her and so she was able to hide the look on her face whilst she tried to think of a response.

At length, she replied, 'I... I enjoyed it as much as any other ball.' It wasn't strictly true, but she hoped it would do. Besides, she found she could barely remember the ball now. Beyond those few minutes spent with Nate, the evening seemed to have faded into insignificance. In an attempt to deflect the attention away from herself, she said, 'Did you enjoy it?'

And so Lucy was away. Susan smiled as her sister shared every detail of the previous evening, her voice full of girlish enthusiasm and excitement. Some of it was exceedingly inane and tedious, but she felt she owed it to Lucy to listen after her abrupt response this morning. There was no one else the girl would be able to tell any of this to, no close friends or confidantes. Lucy had kept this bottled up all day, it was only natural it would spill out now. It reminded Susan of just how young Lucy was, how young they all were. Somehow Lucy had escaped from some of the anxiety and tension that Susan knew was visible on all of the siblings' faces. She'd been kept sheltered and protected from the worst of the times in Narnia. If she'd grown up a little silly and giddy, that was only to be expected. Susan wouldn't have had it any other way.

As she plaited her hair, Lucy's stories came to a gradual halt and the room fell into silence again. The sounds of the sea caught Susan's ear and, not for the first time, she felt a little jealous of Lucy's room. There were any number of rooms she could have chosen when they first moved into the castle all those years ago, and she was certain that even now she could change if she wanted. She loved her room which looked out over the formal gardens on the western side of the castle, and then onto the rolling hills beyond. Even so, there was something calm and relaxing about the sound of the sea on a day like today.

'Susan?'

'Mmm?'

'Lord Asriel's son told me something last night.'

'Yes?' Only half-listening, Susan was unprepared for the answer. She had little interest in what may have passed between her younger sister and the all-but-legendary son of one of the great lords of Narnia.

'He told me his father had come to the ball to look for a new wife.'

A flashback to saying goodbye to Lord Asriel that afternoon. He had apologised profusely for his son's absence, explaining in a disparaging tone that he had already left on horseback early that morning. Susan had wished him well and Peter had said something meaningless. Before he left, Asriel had told the king he would be in touch 'regarding our bit of business.' It had meant nothing at the time, she had assumed it was a particularly complicated bit of legislation. But now...

Abruptly, Susan stood up and let the brush fall onto the bed. Lucy turned to look at her older sister.

'Are you alright, Su?' It was heartening to see genuine concern on her face; she really had forgiven her for this morning's outburst.

'Of course.' Susan smoothed her dress down, aware that her hands were suddenly clammy and a trickle of sweat had run down between her shoulder blades. She was very proud of how calm she sounded though. 'I just suddenly felt so tired. I should really be getting to bed. Goodnight.'

The distance between the sisters' rooms had never felt so large before, and Susan hurried down the corridor to her own room. Her mind raced. She knew she should remain calm, she should think it through rationally. There was no reason to believe that she had anything to do with the Lord Asriel's 'bit of business', even less reason to suspect that the 'bit of business' was his codeword for a potential engagement. She was overtired, that was all, overtired and emotional. Peter would never sign her away like that, not to someone he distrusted, not without asking her.

But then, she mused as she came in sight of her chamber door, she was nineteen, almost twenty. She'd known girls married younger than that, back at home... The familiar tightening in chest reminded her just how far from that place she was, how far she'd come from the idealistic eleven-year-old girl who had stumbled through the wardrobe that day. Marriage had been part of her future then. But now...

She closed her chamber door behind her with relief. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She'd never realised how strongly she felt about this. Marriage had seemed a far off possibility, always something that would happen in the future when she met the right man, who she'd fall completely in love with. She had no idea where she'd meet such a man or how she'd ever give herself over so completely to such an unpredictable emotion. It was just how she expected things would happen. But now it seemed to be something nearer and more pressing, the kind of thing a nineteen-year-old Queen of Narnia should be doing. So much so that her brother would arrange a marriage for her, to a man old enough to be her father.

It took several minutes for her heart rate to slow and for the rushing in her ears to stop. She should go and see Peter now, and demand to know what was going on. Surely he'd have told her if it was true, surely...

Her thoughts drifted slowly away as she noticed the folded paper on the floor. It was innocuous and seemingly common place, as though someone had dropped it on the floor on their way out of the door. There was nothing particularly interesting about it except for the one scrawled word across it, in a hurried hand and smudged ink: _Susan_.

She bent and picked it up, opening it carefully. It took several seconds for the message inside to sink in and then her hands really did begin to tremble, although she was no longer sure why. Whatever the reason, it took her mind off of Lucy's news of Lord Asriel.

_I want to see you again. Away from all the fuss of the castle. _

_I'll meet you in the sand dunes in five days time._

_I think I can make you smile._

_N x_


	15. Chapter 15: Caterina

**I know it's slow. I'm a wordy person.**

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><p>The orchard was cool and calm, a stark contrast to how Caterina felt this evening. As the day had progressed, the familiar itch had started again and had left her increasingly unable to sit still. Since she'd left Edmund's study, she'd paced from room to room in the palace, not able to remember what it was she was looking for. As the afternoon had progressed, her restlessness had only increased. She knew that it was what she was known for, that this inability to sit peacefully was one of the things that Edmund liked about her most – and one of the things Peter found most infuriating. It was part of who she was and who she had been for the last eight years. She should have been pleased that she was returning to her normal self, after a morning and afternoon where she had behaved so out of character. Instead, she just felt tired.<p>

The previous evening was slightly confused in her mind. Everything was jumbled together and she was unsure what had really happened and what had simply been the product of too much wine and too little sleep. It seemed so unlikely that She had returned after all this time and yesterday had been such a long day. All Caterina was truly sure of was that she had felt so much better this morning – calmer and clearer. She wanted that feeling again.

So she'd come here, to where she had first felt that peace descending upon her. The orchard was different this evening. The trees were filled with birds and the scent of blossom was in the air. It was the perfect spring evening. It seemed impossible that she could feel so crushingly depressed on an evening like this. She hoped that being back here again would provide her with a solution to why she felt so dreadful.

Finn's presence wasn't helping either. For the first time since she'd had the dog, she wished he'd go away and leave her alone. Through everything, even when he'd been a clingy puppy, all slobbery licks and whimpers, she'd loved him and kept him close by her. Today he was keeping his distance, always at least two metres away from her, and apart from the odd growl or whine, he'd drawn no attention towards himself all day. Somehow, it upset her even more. The hurt look in his brown eyes, and the way he cowered every time she so much as lifted a finger was tearing her apart.

She wasn't leaving this orchard without that serenity creeping over again.

The problem was, she'd been here over an hour now and nothing had changed. She supposed it was time to go further in, back to whatever it was that had given her that feeling yesterday. She didn't know why she was still standing here. The solution was obvious. Maybe she needed just one more minute.

When the minute had passed and the uncomfortable restlessness remained, she took a deep breath and turned to face the growing dark of the trees.

A volley of barking broke out and she turned back in alarm, expecting to see dozens of the king's hounds straining on the ends of their leads. Instead, it was just Finn, hackles on end and teeth bared, but with his tail between his legs. He was the picture of confusion. Caterina kind of knew how he felt.

'Finn,' she hissed now, trying to soothe him and yet only upsetting the wretched animal further. 'Finn, please, just...' She broke off as the dog shifted from foot to foot, whining and shaking. He was a bundle of energy, looking for all the world like he wanted to run towards his beloved mistress and protect her from whatever threat he'd imagined in the dark of the orchard. Yet something kept him back, anxiously watching from the edge of the trees.

'Oh Finn.' Caterina's voice broke on the words. Then, she slowly turned her back on the dog and pushed her way through the trees.

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><p><em>Caterina placed a soothing hand on Finn's quivering nose. He was twitching from his oversized paws to his lashing tail, excited to be out and about with his mistress and playing. It was taking every bit of his loyalty to her to stop him from bounding out from behind this boulder and pouncing upon Edmund this very second. Caterina knew she couldn't expect him to hold out much longer; he was only a puppy really.<em>

_Peering out from behind the grey rock, she saw her best friend approaching them across the sand. He had his hands in his pockets and his face screwed up against the sand being whipped up by the late winter breeze. It was too cold to be outside today really, and yet when Edmund had finally agreed to spend some time with her, after days of nagging, Caterina hadn't even hesitated before suggesting the beach. And Edmund hadn't batted an eyelid at the time. Now he looked more than a little perturbed at the choice of setting and a little annoyed that the girl he'd arranged to meet was nowhere to be seen._

_As his footsteps came ever closer, Finn's muscles bunched together. Edmund was his second favourite person in the world and Caterina expected the dog had missed him just as much as she had. At least, that was how she was justifying this strange game of hide and seek at the age of sixteen, when she was certain she should have known better._

_Finally, the lurcher could take it no more. With a joyous howl, he took one leap over the boulder and knocked the young king to the floor. Edmund let out a cry of his own as he disappeared under sixty pounds of dog. Sand lifted up in clouds around them as the two wrestled, and Caterina watched with a delighted grin on her face. Her two favourite boys in the same place for once. There hadn't been much of that recently._

'_Will you get this dog off of me?' His words were muffled but there was no mistaking the irritation in them. He gave Finn a final shove and then scrambled to his feet. 'Can't you keep him under control?'_

_Caterina frowned as Finn returned to her, his nose questing for some reassurance now that Edmund had turned out to be in such a foul mood. 'He was only playing.'_

'_Well don't you think we're all a bit old for playing? What was this anyway, a game of hide and seek?' _

_Edmund had always been so calm with her, so warm and patient. Compared to Peter's usual way of dealing with her, this was mild, a little annoyance and some almost appropriate chastising of her childish behaviour. It was just Edmund never spoke like this to her, to anyone. In all the years she'd known him, that spoilt selfish boy who had arrived in the Queen's House that day had never reappeared. His words hit her like knives._

'_It was only a joke.'_

'_Well, it wasn't very funny! I've got better things to do than be attacked by your stupid dog, Cat!'_

_The slur on Finn tipped her over the edge and the temper which still surprised her took hold of her tongue. 'Well why don't you go and do them then? Why waste your time here with me?'_

_A wave crashed into the beach and Caterina wondered how they'd got into this fight already. Recently it was all they'd done whenever they'd seen each other, which hadn't been often. In the fifteen months since he'd turned sixteen, Edmund had been on three voyages overseas. He'd returned from the latest one six days ago but Caterina had barely seen him. She wished she understood what had happened to make their first real moments together descend into such angry words so quickly. What's more, she wished she knew how to fix things. _

_Edmund turned away from her, running a hand through his dark hair and kicking a lump of sand. For something to do, Caterina crouched down next to Finn, burying her hands in the thick fur at his neck and whispering loving words to him. She remembered how different it had been between Edmund and her only nine months ago when he gave the lurcher to her as a squirming and wriggling puppy. _

'_I'm sorry.' It had felt as though the silence would never end, then Edmund finally turned back to her and spoke. He sounded tired and fed up. 'I... didn't mean to get so cross. I've just been really busy and...' He sighed. 'I'm sorry.'_

_Caterina didn't reply._

'_Cat, I'm sorry.' There was a pause. Then, 'Well?'_

'_Well what?'_

'_I've said I'm sorry. Aren't you...?' He let out an irritated sigh. 'If you're just going to be difficult...'_

'_Who's being difficult?'_

'_You are!'_

'_I didn't go disappearing off for weeks on end!'_

'_I __didn__'__t _disappear_,__I __was _working!_I __thought __even __you__'__d __get __that!__'_

'_What's that supposed to mean?'_

'_It means... Oh never mind!' The exasperation in his voice stopped Caterina from pressing harder. Instead, they stood in uneasy silence for several minutes. Finn half-heartedly chased the disturbed sand as they waited for one of them to break._

_And __just __like __always, __it __was __Edmund __who __spoke __first. __Tentatively __and __awkwardly, __he __said,__ '__I __just __meant...__it__'__s __not __like __I _want _to __be __miles __away __from __home, __Cat. __Believe __me, __if __I __could __stay __here, __I __would. __Because... __because __I __hate __being __away __from __here.__' __He __opened __his __mouth __as __if __to __say __something __else __but __then __closed __it __again._

_The words sounded honest, more honest than anything either of them had said to each other recently, and so Caterina couldn't find a sharp comeback. She traced circles in the sand with her foot as she waited for the right kind of words to come to her, something which would put the argument behind them. The trouble was that being calm and nice didn't come that naturally to her. _

_Finally, she managed to say, 'Well... I don't like you being away from here either.' She managed not to add that there was no reason he had to go on his own apart from his own brother's determination to keep her under constant supervision. There was a smile on his face now, brought on by her words, and she'd do almost anything to keep that there. Yet there was still a small reservation in her mind. Her hopes had been shattered too many times over the last year for her to rejoice just yet. 'How long are you staying this time?'_

_The smile broadened. 'There are no plans for me to go anywhere again soon.' When she didn't reply, he raised his eyebrows. 'So... am I forgiven?'_

_She returned his smile grudgingly. 'I suppose.'_

_Finn leapt up with a joyous bark, breaking the tension between them, and they both dissolved into giggles. It was the first time Caterina could remember laughing in a long time._

* * *

><p>Finn's yelps and howls died away as she moved further into the orchard, blocked out by the birdsong and the rustle of the leaves. She was glad, as having to hear her beloved companion's misery only made this journey back into the trees harder than it already was. Each step felt heavy and forced. Somewhere inside her she knew that what she was doing was wrong and yet that couldn't stop her. The feeling that she was going home was stronger and more powerful. It was a feeling she hadn't had for eight years.<p>

For a long time, she thought she'd got it wrong, as the noise all around her continued. And then suddenly, so suddenly it took her several seconds to notice it, the noise died away, and that great feeling of peace settled around her again. The trees became still and the last of the birds disappeared. And Caterina could breathe again.

The serenity was short-lived.

'Caterina.' So. It hadn't been her imagination. She was back. And Caterina recognised that tone of voice only too well, the soft but deadly way She spat out her name, the way the very air around her became fraught with tension and danger. She was in trouble.

'Your Majesty?'

'You come here. You dare to come here without any news, any evidence that you are fulfilling your promise to me?' The words thundered around the orchard, gathering in intensity as they attacked Caterina from every angle. 'I see you shall disappoint me again.'

'I've... I've tried...' Caterina bit her tongue, aware that this was the first time in her life that she had ever answered her guardian back. It was a habit she'd grown into over the years, unable to keep a check on her temper whenever she was faced with Peter's frustration with her. It was habit she'd need to forget quickly.

'Silence, fool! Did you really think you could lie to me? You have made no attempts to fulfil your promise to me, no attempt at all! I thought better of you!'

'I'm sorry.' For the second time in as many nights, sobs choked Caterina's throat as she realised how badly she had let her guardian down. It was one small request, a desire for her to play her part in the plan which had been so long in the making. She had failed Her once. Somehow Caterina knew that she would not be allowed to fail again. 'I really am sorry, your Majesty.'

There was a pause and Caterina held her breath. Then, in a much sweeter tone, the voice said, 'No matter. It is early days. I have been away for a long time, you have been alone for a long time. You will do better in future.' Caterina nodded eagerly, these honeyed tones like balm to her restless spirit. 'You must do better in future. Here. Drink.' The warning was sweetened by the arrival of the goblet on the orchard floor. Caterina fell upon it with no invitation, her thirst growing second by second until the liquid flooded her mouth.

As she drank deeply, laughter rang out around the orchard. 'Yes. I have been gone a very long time. You will not fail me again?' Caterina shook her head. 'My child. I put my trust in you.'


	16. Chapter 16: Peter

Closing his eyes, Peter shook his head in the hope that it would dislodge whatever fluff seemed to have blown in and made him unable to think this evening. The sun had barely set and yet suddenly his mind had taken on the consistency of mud, making the legislation sitting on his desk utterly impossible to digest. It had been a very long few days.

Still, the affairs of state didn't stop for anything, even the eighteenth birthday of a king's ward. Petitions and requests for intervention in various disputes had continued to arrive at the castle, and despite the number of petty cases Peter had handed to his younger brother, the pile on his own desk never seemed to get any smaller. Not for the first time, he wondered how a solitary king could ever have managed with the volume of correspondence from both within and beyond the Narnian borders. The history books spoke of the first king of Narnia, King Frank and his wife Queen Helen. Either Narnia had been much calmer in those days or King Frank had been a magician, Peter mused as he gazed out the window at the last rays of the day. It was the only explanation for how one man could possibly have coped with the running of such a country.

Standing up, he moved from his desk to the window itself. Whilst Edmund's study looked out over the land, taking in the gently rolling hills of Narnia, Peter's gave him a clear view of the sea. From here, he was able to see any ships approaching the coast hours before they arrived. Such a warning would, he was sure, come in useful some day, but for now, he was content to enjoy the way the still pink sky was reflected in the gently lapping waves, occasionally disturbed by the late evening frolics of the mermen and mermaids who inhabited the bay. It was a rest for his eyes if not his brain.

For now his mind turned once again to the topic it had been unwillingly preoccupied with all day. It was no wonder he'd found the mundane matters he'd been faced with a chore when such a topic had weighed so heavily upon his consciousness. And whilst rationally he knew that this could in no way be blamed upon Caterina, he had spent so much of his kingship being irritated with the girl that this seemed like just another thing she'd done to frustrate him. It was entirely unfair and he was glad nobody could read his thoughts; it would certainly do nothing to support his title as 'magnificent'.

It had been too much to hope that Lord Asriel's request last night had been the ramblings of a drunk and ageing man. For one thing, Peter doubted that the shrewd lord ever allowed his mental faculties to be impaired through the consumption of too much drink. For another, the man might be twice as old as Peter himself was, but he could easily pass for ten years younger. Life in exile must have been kind to him. It was therefore naive of Peter to have hoped that the morning would have changed Asriel's mind, but his stark reminder of 'our bit of business' that afternoon had taken the young king aback. It was such a clinical phrase, entirely detached from the matter it represented. It had only increased his sense of unease regarding the issue.

A knock on the door came as a relief, dragging Peter's thoughts into the present moment in time. Until Lord Asriel contacted him regarding 'our bit of business' there was little he could do anyway. Perhaps now he'd returned to his own lands, a hard day's ride from Cair Paravel, thoughts of Caterina's golden beauty would have faded. She was not, after all, famed for her looks as Susan was.

Glad to have been distracted, Peter called out a greeting to the person at the door. 'Come in.' As the door opened, he suddenly wondered who would have knocked and waited so patiently. His siblings had never indulged in such a practice, a habit left over from their childhood days in Finchley when only grown-ups insisted on privacy being respected. Peter gave a small smile; it was strange to think that once upon a time he and Edmund had shared a small bedroom, their beds so close together that if they reached out a hand in the night they could brush fingertips. For all that physical closeness, it was Narnia that had brought the brothers together, and he would be forever grateful for that. Such a relationship meant that knocking on doors wasn't necessary.

He expected to see a servant, perhaps a footman ensuring that the High King had everything he needed. Caterina's entrance came as a shock, one only heightened when he noted the pretty green dress she was wearing, one with no sign of sand, mud, grass or dog hair. Her hair still hung loosely down her back but was pinned back from her face, her green eyes for once without their blonde curtain. There was something else about her too. It took until she'd closed the door carefully behind her and turned to face him again for him to realise what it was.

She was carrying a tray.

'Your Majesty.' Her curtsey whilst holding the tray was a feat to behold. For the first time, Peter saw some of the grace he'd heard Susan mention when talking of Caterina. The whole time she'd lived in his care the girl had always seemed awkward and ill at ease. If her posture had always been correct, it had never seemed natural or comfortable for her. Now she sank down in a deep and elegant curtsey, returning to her standing position without so much as upsetting a single teacup on the tray in her hands.

Taken aback by her appearance, it took Peter several seconds to respond. When he did, he spoke in a deeper voice than usual, as though this would compensate for his clear discomfort at the situation. 'Caterina. Are you... alright?' The sight of her in his study was so alien to him that the only explanation for her appearance was that something was wrong. He wondered if news of Asriel's proposal had somehow filtered down to her and the teacups were her weapon of choice for today.

Or perhaps Lord Asriel himself had spoken of his plans last night. Perhaps his request for Caterina's hand in marriage had been a mere formality as the girl herself had already given her consent at the ball last night. It was true that the two had never met before and that Caterina had never shown the slightest in men or marriage, let alone Asriel specifically. But then she had always been irrational and unpredictable, at least in Peter's eyes. Wasn't it possible that she had been dazzled by the lord's undeniable good looks, his fine clothes and talk? She had no fortune of her own, no title or lands she could use to entice a passing prince or wandering viscount. In truth, Lord Asriel was about the best match Caterina could ever hope to make, and maybe she knew that. The heavy burden Peter had carried around all day began to lighten a little.

'I'm well, thank you.' Caterina gave a small nod and smile. There was a moment then when a frown appeared between her eyes. It was just a flash, a moment when something of the Caterina Peter knew seemed to re-appear. Then her smile widened. 'I brought you some tea. I noticed you hadn't been to dinner and I thought you might be hungry.' When he didn't reply, the smile faded a little, her eyes widening. 'I can take it away again if you don't want...'

'No. It's... very kind of you.' Overcoming his increasing shock, Peter shook his head and the smile reappeared on her face. 'Here, put it down on my desk.' He moved a few papers aside, his haste sending a few fluttering to the floor. Habit made a curse rise up in his throat, ready to put the blame for such disorder upon the girl in front of him. Then he looked at the tray's contents and his irritation all but died away.

'This is... very nice,' he managed eventually, taking in the neatly arranged sandwiches, the squares of cake and fresh fruit. There was something very homely about the whole affair which stirred an old memory within him. Perhaps it was the floral design on the china which made him think of the set in his mother's cabinet at home, the plates and teacups which were never used, at least not to his knowledge. It was something he had never even realised he remembered until that moment. His eyes fell on Caterina with a fresh curiosity.

She stood back from the table, her face calm and relaxed even under his gaze. Only after a long pause did she say, 'I hope you enjoy your tea, your Majesty.' Then, with another perfect curtsey, she began to walk backwards from the room.

So taken aback by the show of respect was he, that it took Peter much longer to respond than it should have done, and so his words came out unusually hurried and he could feel his face burning as he said, 'Would you like to stay? I mean,' he added, as Caterina's exit halted and she raised those unnervingly green eyes to his face, 'would you like to join me? There's more than enough here.' The tray was overloaded with food, he'd need some help.

'If you'd like me to.' She dropped her eyes to the carpet in what seemed an almost too-perfect show of obedience.

The irritation rose again, almost a comfort in this strange situation. 'I wouldn't ask if I didn't.' Biting his tongue, he tried to find the kingly tones he'd used for the past eight years but almost never used with Caterina, preferring to indulge in exasperated battles of will instead. 'It would be nice if you would.'

For a few moments she looked back at him and Peter found himself the subject of intense scrutiny. Her eyes flickered over him and for the first time he saw himself through her eyes. If he was startled by her random act of kindness, there was no reason to expect her to be any less surprised by the way he'd responded to it. There was wariness in her eyes, as though she expected to be cast out at any moment. Peter felt her gaze like a sword in the stomach; he'd done that to her.

In a rush, he added, 'I'd like it if you'd have tea with me.'

Caterina nodded. 'That would be lovely, thank you, your Majesty.'

Over the next hour they shared the pot of tea and made more headway through the cake and sandwiches than Peter could have thought possible. By the time Caterina finally stood up to go to bed, the tray was almost bare of food. It was more than a sharing of some food though. It was the first time Peter could remember spending longer than five minutes in the company of the girl without wanting to put her through the nearest window. What's more, at no point during the evening did he even come close to hitting that level of frustration. Quite the opposite. When she finally stood up from the desk, he found he was disappointed the evening had come to an end. Something about talking with Caterina, about inconsequential things, had calmed him and pushed aside the nagging feelings he'd had all day. For the first time, he realised why his brother was so fond of her.

'I hope I haven't kept you away from your work for too long,' she said as she began to pile the cups and plates back onto the tray.

Peter looked at the piles of paper. He'd all but forgotten them. It was true that he could have made some headway through the petitions in the past hour, perhaps giving him some time tomorrow to catch his breath. Not that he was particularly out of breath now, he mused.

'It'll still be there in the morning,' he said, shrugging it off in a most unkingly way.

A smile spread across her face. 'That doesn't sound much like the High King I've heard about.'

For an instant, Peter felt his temper flare, outraged that she would be so rude and disrespectful. And then he realised. She was teasing him. When was the last time he'd been teased by anybody? Even Edmund, the closest friend he had, rarely teased him about his kingship. It was sacrosanct, nobody joked about it. Except Caterina it seemed. And his temper died away as quickly as it had come.

'No,' he agreed with a small smile of his own. 'I suppose sometimes I like to be Peter rather than High King.' Gesturing towards the door, he said, 'Thank you for coming to see me. It's been... nice.'

Caterina nodded as she reached the door. 'I'm glad you enjoyed the food.' Just as she turned to go, she added, 'I quite like Peter. Good night, your Majesty.'

The door closed behind her and Peter was left alone with his thoughts. As soon as her calming presence had gone, only one thought was left in his mind, the one he had pushed aside all day.

Lord Asriel wanted to marry her. Could he really let that happen?


	17. Chapter 17: Susan

**I need to get on and write some more of this - it's on my to do list. Happy New Year.**

* * *

><p>The sun was just setting as Susan gazed out over the sand dunes. They were becoming more indistinct with each moment that passed and part of her was glad about that; soon her options would decrease to one. For now, though, the decision still rested with her: should she stay or should she go?<p>

At times over the last five days, it had seemed as though this day would never come, that the dilemma she faced would never come to fruition and was therefore not worth worrying about. She'd been almost able to forget all about it. Almost.

In the days that had followed Caterina's party, Susan had tried to busy herself with the day-to-day running of the castle. She had answered correspondence from some of their people overseas who preferred to approach the royal family via the slightly more charitable Queen Susan than tackle the High King Peter. There had been some disputes among the servants in the castle itself, worn out from working overtime whilst the many guests for Caterina's birthday had stayed. She had stepped in to solve some of the petty squabbles and agreed to some extra time off for some of the most overworked members of the household. To her surprise, she had even been able to convince Caterina to sit down, albeit for short periods, in order to write thank you letters for the many presents their visitors had brought with them. The list was nowhere near complete and wouldn't be in the near future, but it was progress; perhaps turning eighteen had made a big impact upon the girl.

Amidst all of this productivity though, Susan's thoughts turned back continually to those few short moments when someone had spoken to her, the real Susan, not the queen she had been forced into being for the last eight years. Someone had looked beyond the clothes and the crown and for the first time in so long, she was having to as well.

She didn't much like what she saw. Each reflection she caught of herself showed her the face she had grown accustomed to seeing, with clear skin and glossy hair, a pouting mouth and dark eyes. After all this time, she was used to being called beautiful. But suddenly she was seeing something else: a yearning in those eyes for something more, a downwards pull on those lips which suggested something was wrong. It was odd how it had taken a complete stranger to tell her what she should have already known: she was unhappy.

And so here she was, as the light died on the fifth day after that note had been pushed under her door, still undecided over what she'd do. It was shaming to admit that she had no idea how far away from the castle the sand dunes even were or whether she would be able to walk there or should take a horse. Now the light was fading she was unsure whether it was even safe to be out there on her own, meeting somebody about whom she knew nothing beyond the name he had chosen to give to her. Queen Susan would never behave so improperly.

'Is... everything alright, your Majesty?' She was jerked from her reverie by the voice of one of her ladies-in-waiting. Elena was one of the longest serving members of her retinue, having taken up her post on the very day the four Pevensies were crowned. She was older than they were, nearing thirty, and had long dark straight hair which contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Susan had heard many rumours surrounding Elena over the years, accusations that she was at least part-siren. It was true that her singing was a pleasure to hear and Susan herself had felt the pull of her voice on many occasions. Elena, however, had never proved to be anything other than a loyal and dutiful servant; in another life, she might even have been a friend.

Even so, Susan wasn't going to unburden herself to Elena right now. 'Fine, thank you, Elena.' She gave the dignified smile she had perfected over the years and turned back to the sunset.

The lady-in-waiting joined her at the window. 'It's a beautiful evening'

'Yes.'

'It looks like there'll be a clear sky too. Perfect for star-gazing.' There was a pause before Elena added, 'The view from the sand dunes is usually spectacular at this time of year.'

Startled, Susan turned to look at her, momentarily forgetting herself. 'Is it?' She searched Elena's face for any signs that she knew what was coursing through her mistress's head. How could she possibly know? Susan herself had destroyed the note after reading it several times. Perhaps Elena had heard of the unseasonal fire Queen Susan had ordered and had somehow come to this conclusion. Or perhaps the rumours of her being something other worldly were more than rumours.

Elena didn't directly answer her question. Instead, as she plumped the many cushions on the chairs in the queen's sitting room, she gave Susan information she would never have asked for. 'The servants' entrance by the Eastern Gate is the quickest route down to the sand. The quietest too.'

It took several moments for the information to sink in. By the time Susan realised what she'd been told, that she'd been given another option, Elena had gone. Now that Susan looked, she realised that the lady-in-waiting hadn't come to the sitting room empty handed. The queen's lightweight spring cloak, designed for evening strolls and morning rides, lay across the nearest chair. There seemed to be no reason for her to put it off any longer.

It was a revelation to discover the secret network of passages and stairs which the servants moved along every day. Susan was embarrassed to realise she had almost never considered how it was that so much seemed to happen in the castle without anybody noticing. What's more, she was astonished that the servants ever made it out of this maze at all; she took three wrong turnings before she was finally able to open a door and find herself out in the twilight of the garden on the western edge of the castle. She was only thankful that she hadn't come face to face with any of her staff on her blundering journey through the castle.

Once outside the castle walls, she was grateful for Elena's having brought her the cloak. The bonfire at the ball had thrown out huge amounts of heat and so this spring evening chill came as a surprise to her. The sand dunes suddenly seemed much further away than they had from her sitting room window and she pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders. If it was always this gusty out on the beach, it was no wonder that Caterina always looked rather like a windswept pony.

There was a charm to the evening though, and for the first time, Susan thought she was beginning to understand why her brother's best friend seemed to make a bolt for the beach as often as possible. A strange kind of calm descended upon her as she breathed in the sea air, and if she still wasn't wholly comfortable with being here, at least some of the tension of the last few days was dissolving. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so completely alone. It was a mixed blessing.

It was only now she was here that Susan realised quite how vague Nate's instructions had been. Where in the dunes was she supposed to meet him, they seemed to stretch for miles? And what did five days' time mean? Perhaps she had already missed him. She didn't know if she was pleased about that or not. Deep down, she knew she should be regretting her actions. It was most unbefitting of a queen to have scuttled from her castle without a word to anybody to meet a stranger in such a secluded place as the sand dunes. She knew nothing about him or who he was. Now that she considered it, she realised that no invitation had been sent to anyone of his name: he'd attended the party either as a guest of someone else or had been uninvited. That he'd left the next morning without so much as a goodbye suggested the latter. She was surely making a terrible mistake.

Yet those few moments she'd spent with him at various points of that evening seemed lodged in her mind, more alive and exciting than a thousand other moments that had passed since then. She hadn't danced with him, they'd barely spoken, and yet... those eyes. That smile. That voice. The thought that she might have left it too late to see him just once more closed around her chest painfully and a sudden gust of wind made her gasp for her breath.

'I thought you weren't coming.'

The gasp became a short squeal which was instantly whipped away by the growing wind, and Susan turned around to see the object of her thoughts suddenly standing in front of her. In the gloom, he was now little more than a silhouette against the almost set-sun. The voice was unmistakeable though and where her heart had initially raced in fear, it now thundered along for a very different reason.

Now, however, she was keen to remind him of who he'd invited to the beach this evening, and so when his hand reached for her arm, she was ready to shake him off.

'I didn't mean to scare you,' he said now, his voice softer and less teasing than before. 'I've just been waiting for a while.'

Removing her arm from his grasp, Susan employed the tones she'd been practising since she was eleven. 'I wasn't scared.' Nate took a step away from her and she was gratified to see her cool manner worked upon him. Then, a little regretful that she'd already made him back off, she added, 'How long have you been waiting?'

'I got here at nine this morning.' There was a pause. 'I didn't think you'd come in the dark.'

Susan pushed aside the thoughts that this man had waited almost twelve hours for her to arrive. 'I couldn't very well be seen meeting a strange man on the beach. I am a Queen of Narnia.' The words sounded pretentious even to her and she wished she could take them back. It was already too late though.

Keeping his distance, Nate's voice took on a chill of his own. 'Yes, I know. Your Majesty.' Susan's eyes narrowed, unsure whether he was being sarcastic or not. He moved on too quickly for her to fully decide. 'Thank you for coming. Come on.'

Susan was thrown. 'Come on?'

Nate paused in his move away from her and looked over his shoulder. 'Well, if you don't to be seen meeting a strange man, I wouldn't have thought you'd like to be seen talking to a strange man on the beach. I thought you'd prefer somewhere less public.' Without another word, he disappeared into the sand dunes. Susan had no choice but to follow.

The ground was tougher to walk on than she could have imagined, and again Susan was hit with the realisation that she barely knew anything about the home she'd had for the last eight years. She'd spent over half her life in this world, living in this castle, and yet she couldn't remember a time when she'd ever walked through these sand dunes, let alone done it with only the moon to guide her. Several times she stumbled, and it was only her pride which stopped her requesting a helping hand. By the time Nate finally came to a halt in a small clearing in the grass her shoes were filled with sand and she was more irritated with him than ever; would it really have killed him to be a gentleman and _offer_ some assistance?

'Why have we stopped?' The words came out laced with a bitterness that Susan hadn't known she owned. There seemed to be nothing of great importance in the clearing they were in. Again, the thought that she'd followed a complete stranger into such a secluded area flashed across her mind. The only thing bigger than her fear right then was her irritation. 'What's so special about here?'

Nate didn't reply immediately, instead sinking down to the ground, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him. Only when he'd made himself perfectly comfortable did he respond. 'Nothing really. I just thought it was a nice spot for some star-gazing.'

'Star-gazing?' Elena's words came back to her. _The view from the sand dunes is usually spectacular at this time of year._ Despite that, it wasn't what Susan had expected him to say.

'It's a perfect night.' She felt his eyes fall on her. 'Are you going to stand there?' When she didn't respond, momentarily stunned by the casual way he addressed her, he added, 'You'll find it much easier if you lie down.'

'Lie down?' Indignation rose up within her. 'But I'm...'

'I've brought a blanket, _your Majesty_.' There was no mistaking the sarcasm this time and yet Susan knew that to object to it or to refuse to join him on the ground would only prove his point even further. Grudgingly, she sank to the ground beside him, leaving a respectable distance between them. Lying down was more than she was willing to do though, and she hugged her knees to her self-consciously.

A silence descended over the two of them. Nate stretched himself out beside her, settling into the soft sand without a word. For several minutes, the only sound was the far away rush of waves on the beach. It was peaceful, more peaceful than anything Susan could remember. Her irritation began to melt away, her muscles relaxing and her grip on her knees slackening. Out here, the tension of the last few days eased their grip upon her mind. For the first time in many days, she felt calm.

'So how are you?'

'Very well thank you. How are you?' The words tripped off of her tongue without her needing to engage her brain, without her needing to drag herself away from the peace she'd finally found.

Nate left a pause before he spoke again. 'And really?' Susan turned her head abruptly to look at him, a blurred shape in the gloom. Something in the intensity of her gaze must have made him rethink his words, though the sigh that accompanied his, 'I'm very well too, thank you,' suggested that he wasn't happy about his question being deflected.

Susan pulled herself a little more upright, determined to rebuild the barrier between the two of them and ensure that Nate knew his place. 'So what am I supposed to be looking at then?' she asked, gazing up at the sky and seeing thousands of pinpricks of light. It was beautiful, but there was a deadness to it, a sense of there being nothing else to it. It was the kind of night that she had glanced at many times over the years without giving it much thought. Suddenly she wanted Nate to give her a reason to look at it again.

'Anything you like.' The reply was as off-hand as ever and completely unhelpful. 'Pick a star.'

'What do you mean?' The irritation resurfaced as Susan shot him a glowering look.

Nate leaned up on his elbows. 'That star there.' He pointed at a particularly small one glimmering away. Susan squinted, trying to focus on it. 'That's Cliora. She was the first star created at the beginning of Narnia and will be the last star in the sky at the end of the Narnia. As long as she is still shining down upon us, we have nothing to fear. Or so the story goes.'

Susan gazed up at the star, the oldest thing in the night sky. There was nothing to mark it out as such, nothing to make it special or unique. Yet there it was, something which would outlive everybody she knew. It almost made her troubles fade into insignificance.

'Or those.' Nate pointed again to a cluster of four stars. 'They're the Elementals. One for each of the elements. When they are all in the sky, Narnia is in balance, but should one disappear, a great disaster will befall the land. Fire was missing for many a year during the Great Winter. But then, you'd know that,' he added.

Susan ignored him. She preferred to forget what was now referred to as the Great Winter, the event which had dragged her into Narnia in the first place. It was the reason she kept her fire stoked all winter, ordering fresh firewood as soon as the chill set in, in the autumn. She didn't want reminding of it now.

'How do you know all of this?' she asked now, looking at the stars anew, wondering what tale could be attached to each and every one.

'My mother used to tell me the stories of the Narnian stars when I was a child. I think it reminded her of home.'

'You didn't grow up in Narnia?' It was the first thing about Nate that she could really get hold of.

'No. My father was exiled during the Great Winter.'

'Where did you grow up?'

'Archenland.'

'And where do you live now?' Susan bit her lip and gave a small giggle. 'Sorry, this is more like an interview than a conversation.'

'It's alright.' Nate gave his own small laugh. 'Now I live with my father. I've been travelling, but I've come to Narnia to stay for a while.'

Something didn't seem right to Susan but she wasn't immediately sure what. Then it hit her. 'What about your mother?'

'She died.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine.' The way he moved the conversation on so quickly proved that it wasn't fine, but Susan knew enough about people to let him be. 'So it's just my father and me now.'

There was little Susan could say to that. The thought of being all alone in the world apart from one other person was so alien to her, and for the first time in many years she considered how different her life would be without her brothers and sister. How much more unbearable this life could have been if Peter, Edmund and Lucy hadn't been right alongside her this whole time. Perhaps she should be more grateful for them.

The silence between them continued, more due to a lack of conversation than through any awkwardness. Susan couldn't remember the last time she'd been in anyone else's company without some sort of noise. As queen, she was usually expected to listen to any number of petitions and requests throughout the average day, or make meaningless conversation with visiting dignitaries and their wives. This was something different; she liked it.

Eventually she felt Nate stir beside her. 'It's getting late. You should probably get back before they miss you.'

Susan ignored him temporarily. She'd spent eight years roaming the walls of the castle, always available when anybody needed her. They could wait a little longer now. In an attempt to prolong this moment, to give herself a reason to remain on this blanket a little longer, she suddenly pointed at a star, one she hadn't even really considered before. 'What about that one?'

Nate followed her glance, acting as though he'd never suggested it was time their rendezvous was over. 'That one? The bright one?'

Now she looked again, she realised that this particular star was ever so slightly brighter than the three others that surrounded it. It was no wonder that her eye had been drawn towards it.

'That's Martia. Those other stars are her brothers and sister. They ruled a small kingdom at the Eastern edge of the world. She lived her life in their shadows, always assuming they were more important than her, more beautiful, more intelligent, more special. Her brothers were strong and powerful, respected by everybody in the kingdom, and her sister was beloved by all who set eyes on her. Beside them, Martia thought she was worthless. Then one day their kingdom was attacked in a way none of them could ever have imagined. One brother was killed, the other badly injured, and her sister, so beloved of all the people, fell into despair. And so it was left to Martia to save everybody.'

'And... did she?'

'What do you think?' Nate looked up at the sky again, at where the star shone down upon them. 'Now she shines brighter than her brothers and sister, a reminder that it was she who saved their kingdom. That sometimes, it's the person you least expect who can save you.' There was a pause as they continued to stare up at the sky. Then, 'Your family take you for granted.'

The words cut into Susan's reverie like a knife. 'I'm sorry?' Before Nate could reply, she stood up. 'You don't even know us!'

'I just meant...' Nate scrambled to his feet beside her. 'I didn't mean...'

'You have no right to make any comments about my family!'

'No, I know, I...'

'I should never have come here!' Struggling to regain her regal composure whilst covered in sand and her heart was leaping in her chest, Susan gathered her skirts around her and tossed her head. 'Please do not contact me again. Good night.'

'Susan, wait!' Nate's hand closed around her wrist. He realised his mistake as she wrenched her arm away in disgust. 'I mean...'

She didn't stay to hear what he'd meant to say as she hurried out of the sand dunes, stumbling over the hem of her dress and with her hair tumbling down her back. It was only when she was safely in her own chamber with the door firmly shut behind her that she gave way to the tears which had been threatening to blind her on the whole journey back from the beach. They coursed freely down her cheeks, blurring her vision, so that when she looked out the window and up at the sky which had given her so much pleasure so recently, it was easy for her to miss that the four Elementals had quietly become three.


	18. Chapter 18: Edmund

**I know it has been a crazily long time since I updated this. Although admittedly I didn't realise it was over a year! I'm so sorry! I've had a few chapters of this sitting on my computer for a while, but I had to write this one before I could post any more as I'd leapt ahead a little. Somehow I fancied writing this today. Please let me know if you enjoy this :)**

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><p>Turning his face up towards the sun, Edmund tried to block out the fact that he'd likely finish the day with a red nose and the freckles he'd cursed almost as soon as he'd been able to speak. It was a beautiful day, one of the finest they'd had so far that spring, and for the first time in almost a week he had escaped from the seemingly endless paperwork Peter had passed his way. For that, if nothing else, Edmund was grateful.<p>

And there were a lot of other things to be grateful for, he reasoned, number one being Caterina's company on this sunny afternoon. He knew he'd been neglecting his best friend recently. Ever since he'd turned eighteen six months earlier, he had found his time increasingly taken up with matters of state. For the most part he didn't mind too much, and whilst he might have allowed himself a private grumble to Caterina on occasion, he never allowed his complaints to be heard by Peter. The work which came his way was just a fraction of the work he knew his elder brother had been doing ever since they set foot in Narnia all those years ago; it was only time he took some responsibility. How Peter had managed for so long on his own, Edmund had no idea, and he supposed it explained his brother's sometimes short temper when it came to Caterina. She wasn't exactly conducive to achieving much serious work.

The scene was set for a perfect afternoon on the beach: beautiful weather, ideal company. Edmund knew he should have been more contented.

Yet he couldn't help being aware of how different from usual this outing was. For one thing, Caterina had not only invited him to join her on this stroll, but had all but begged him for his company. Though 'begged' wasn't quite the right word, Edmund reasoned now as he glanced across at his companion. _It was just as though she genuinely wanted you to come_. He knew that would sound ridiculous to anybody else who had witnessed their friendship over the years, but being on the inside of their relationship had never been quite what it seemed. Somehow, being Caterina's friend had always felt like a tremendous gift, as though she were doing him some kind of favour by speaking to him. He doubted that would ever change; it had been that way from the very start.

* * *

><p><em>The night had turned ever stormier and their silent journey through the snow seemed endless. Even huddled inside the fur coat Caterina had handed to him without a word, Edmund soon lost any feeling in his fingers or toes. Snow swirled around them, blocking out the sound of the reindeers' snorts and snuffles. Edmund couldn't see anything out the sides of the sled and he soon found that closing his eyes was the only way to get any relief from the stinging snowflakes. In this way, he found himself lurching into uneasy sleep, wedged into the side of the sled uncomfortably. He was careful to keep his bodyweight well away from the Witch (for such he was convinced she now was), unwilling to provoke her anger any further. Besides, her body offered no comfort from the bitter weather. His sleep was fitful and only left him with a sick empty feeling in his stomach.<em>

_He was now certain he should never have come here. His body ached with cold and misery. Thoughts of his brother and sisters raced through his mind, along with the Queen's final orders to Maugrim before they'd left the castle: 'Go to the Beavers' house. Kill anything you find there.' He'd done that to them. He'd betrayed his own family and for what? There was nothing he could do to help them now, no way he could warn them. They were doomed._

_A sharp cry from the Witch woke Edmund and the sled shuddered to a halt in what seemed to be a small party of animals. Foxes, squirrels, a badger, even a mouse, were crowded around a small table which was laden with food. They looked happy, and even Edmund's spirits were raised a little at the festive scene. The talking and joy vanished instantly as soon as they saw the Witch._

'_Your... your Majesty,' a fox stammered. The animals shared uneasy glances and gazed at the food with guilt written all over their faces._

'_Where did you find this food?' the Witch demanded, that awful tone back in her voice._

_The fox looked at the other animals, looking hopeful that someone else would speak for him. No one responded. Reluctantly, he said, 'If you please, your Majesty, we were given it.'_

'_Who gave you it?'_

'_Fa-fa-father Christmas.'_

'_No! He cannot have been here!' the Witch howled. 'Tell me you are lying and even now you shall be forgiven!'_

_Silence descended over the animals, and Edmund willed them to reply, to say no, to at least try and get out of it.'_

'_He has, he has, he has!' The smallest squirrel, overexcited and scared, blurted out, and Edmund felt tears pricking his eyes as the Witch raised herself to her full height. That terrible wand was raised above her head and he knew that he had to do something._

'_Please don't!' he exclaimed and grabbed at her arm. It made no difference, and the animals turned to stone in front of his eyes. Then the Witch turned to him and he felt something inside him harden._

'_And as for you!' She slapped him across the face. 'Let that be a lesson to ask favours for spies and traitors! Drive on.'_

_Just before she sat down, Edmund exchanged a glance with Caterina. Her green eyes had widened at what he'd done and for an instant, her face betrayed something of what was going on behind it. For one moment, Edmund felt his spirits rise a little as he saw something more than just the Witch's magic in her eyes: there was shock and confusion and something else. Something he liked. For a split second, Edmund believed that there could be something better in his future. He believed things wouldn't always be this bad._

_Then she realised she was being watched and she turned away, rearranging her features until they were smooth and emotionless again. And Edmund was left feeling more desolate than ever._

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><p>Over the years, he had learnt how to cope with Caterina's blowing hot and cold; anyway, he wasn't the miserable ten-year-old he'd been on that bleak sleigh ride anymore. He'd been ready to cling to anybody and anything on that snowy night. His friendship with Caterina was, he hoped, based on something a little more than the desperation of a sad child. Still, he knew his eagerness to please her stemmed from those memories of that lonely night when he'd have given anything for her to give him even one more glance from those unusual eyes.<p>

His actions weren't the ones he was questioning though. It was Caterina who was behaving out of character. Her insistence that he join her on this walk this afternoon was so unlike her, and whilst Edmund wished he could simply enjoy the fact that his best friend had actually admitted she _wanted_ to spend some time with him, underlying his pleasure was the reminder that this wasn't how his relationship with her worked. Something didn't seem right about this whole picture.

Yet he was loathe to say anything, just like usual. So they walked together, talking about nothing important, and if she laughed more than usual and shot him more welcoming smiles than he'd ever seen her do so before, he put it down to the weather or her age or her sheer enjoyment of being alive. Part of him thought that, after all these years, a smile from Caterina on a sunny day was the least he deserved.

But Finn. He couldn't ignore Finn.

'Ed?' Her voice broke into his thoughts. The giggle in her voice momentarily dragged his mind away from the lurcher stretched out at his feet as they took a momentary rest. For a split second, Edmund almost put all his concerns about the dog to one side and turned back to the light-hearted conversation he'd only half been participating in. Then a shiver ran through the dog from head to tail as his mistress spoke and that Edmund knew he could no longer pretend nothing was wrong. He frowned.

'Ed, what's wrong?'

He tried not to hear the edge of wariness in her voice. Instead, he blundered in; _not that different from eight years ago after all_. 'Is Finn alright?' He didn't look round at his companion for her response, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the dog, whose ears had flicked towards Edmund as he spoke his name, but now cringed back against his head as the voice he had always loved replied.

'Finn? Of course he is. Why?'

Edmund finally glanced at Caterina. 'Look at him. He's behaving really strangely.'

Caterina's shrug came too soon, was too casual. 'He's fine. He's probably just hot. It's really warm today.'

Edmund studied her carefully, before turning his scrutiny back onto her pet. 'No. It's more than that. I mean… aren't you worried?' His stomach churned uncomfortably. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to be having. Even now he wished he could turn back. Caterina had always been so infatuated with the dog, caring for his every need in a way she never cared for herself. She was usually able to pick up on every minor change in Finn's personality, every little deviation from the animal's normally happy-go-lucky demeanour. That Edmund was having to point out the obvious to her was more worrying that his brain was quite read to admit.

'Look at him,' he said again now, reaching down to ruffle Finn's ears. The dog gratefully accepted the caress, but barely moved from the spot he'd been rooted to since they'd stopped five minutes earlier. Not once had he even made an attempt to creep closer to Caterina, when ordinarily it would have been hard to make out where the girl ended and the dog began.

'Oh, Ed, he's fine. Just forget about it.'

The dog flattened himself against the sand again as he heard Caterina's voice. Edmund may have imagined it, but he was certain there'd been a tiny whimper as well. He took pity on the miserable creature and felt an unexpected anger directed towards Caterina.

'Does he look fine to you?' He flashed a dark glare at her. 'Cat, you haven't even looked at him!'

'He's my dog, Ed, I think I know if he's alright or not!'

'How's your arm?'

Caterina blinked. 'I'm sorry?'

'Your arm. The one he bit?' Edmund tried to avoid too much venom creeping into his voice. He could feel his heart beating faster, like it did whenever his horse barrelled into a hedge far too fast and he wondered if this would be the day he finally fell down to earth. This was all seeming far too complicated suddenly and he wished he could turn around or at least put the brakes on for a second. Still, he supposed being stubborn, whilst being one of his less attractive features, had always formed a major part of his personality. 'Do you think that's a sign of him being "alright"?'

Caterina's mouth fell open, as if she was simply waiting for the right words to come to her. Her green eyes widened and a general air of panic was palpable in the air. It was like a mask had fallen, Edmund thought; he hadn't even been aware she'd been wearing one. His anger melted away into something more familiar: concern.

'Cat, what is it? What's wrong?' He spoke gently and quietly, fixing her with his full attention. For a moment, he thought he'd made a difference, that she was about to say something. To admit that something had been troubling ever since her birthday.

Pounding hoofbeats made all three of them turn to see a servant from the castle riding hard down the beach towards them. He came to a halt in a spray of sand and stones, the horse's sides flecked with sweat and foam, and the servant scrambling to the ground and making a hasty bow.

'What's wrong?' Edmund jumped to his feet, echoing his previous words with an ever-increasing sense of trepidations. He knew that his absence from the castle for the last couple of hours would have irritated his older brother and he'd expected to hear all about it when he returned. But to have a servant arrive like this… A thousand fears flashed through his mind. It was with a sense of surprise that his first thought was so clear: _Susan_. He hadn't known he was so worried about his elder sister.

'King Peter requests that your Majesty and the Lady Caterina return to the castle immediately.' The servant glanced between the two of them. 'I… should have brought a second horse…'

Edmund shook his head. 'It's fine. You… weren't to know.' He glanced at Caterina as the implications of the servant's words sank in: Caterina without a horse was virtually unheard of. 'Why does my brother wish to see us?'

'He didn't say, your Majesty.' The servant shook his head. 'He… said it was urgent.'

Edmund hesitated for one moment, wondering how such a perfect day had turned so quickly into something which made his skin break out in a cold sweat. This wasn't how he'd pictured things going.

'Sire?'

Then he swallowed hard and tried to regain a sense of who he'd been for the past eight years. 'Yes, of course. I assume we can borrow your horse?'

The servant nodded and led the horse forwards. 'Would… would the Lady like some help?'

Before Edmund could answer, Caterina had sprang up behind him like a cat, shooting the servant a haughty look that was so unlike her. Edmund's concerns about her had only been displaced, not dissolved.

'I think we'll be fine, thank you.' Edmund nodded at the servant, before squeezing the horse into a hammering canter. 'Thank you for your help.'

As they thundered down the beach and back towards home, Edmund tried to pretend that this was any other day, that Caterina's arms were knotted around him for any other reason than the one he was certain would be waiting for them at the castle.


	19. Chapter 19: Susan

Susan faced the door of Peter's office with an unfamiliar fluttering in her stomach. Whilst she knew that the High King was widely respected across Narnia and beyond, and that at times he had even been known to elicit an element of fear in his adversaries and subjects, he was still her big brother. He almost never looked at her with anything but affection and perhaps a little concern. If the two of them rarely spent much recreational time together, it didn't mean their relationship was anything other than a normal brother-sister dynamic. She adored him.

It was that adoration which made broaching this subject so difficult. She had almost never questioned his decisions, especially when it came to ruling the country. At times she had found his treatment of Caterina a little overbearing, but she knew that he was a good king. She certainly couldn't imagine doing a better job herself. She trusted him. So she had no idea how she was going to ask him to rethink her marriage to Lord Asriel.

It had been two days since she had seen Nate and Susan had made a valiant effort to forget all about him. Now that she reflected upon her behaviour in that time, she felt a twinge of pity for the servants. The best way of taking her mind off of that strange evening on the sand dunes was to involve herself in something else and with no celebrations or visitors expected in the near future, she had instead set about a grand spring clean of the castle. So nicely had she asked, that no servant had protested when she insisted upon the chandelier in the ballroom being polished to a high shine, or when she demanded that all the carpets in the corridors in the west wing were taken up and liberally beaten. If Peter was widely respected by noblemen and lords, Susan's popularity amongst the household staff was second to none. Even so, she couldn't help feeling she'd abused their loyalty, especially as the distraction hadn't even worked. She'd dreamt about Nate again last night. Much as she'd tried to ignore what he'd said, his words had hit home.

And so here she was, hesitating outside her brother's door, wondering how she could ever begin the conversation she needed to have.

The door swung open and both Susan and Peter jumped as they came face to face.

'Susan! Sorry, I didn't know you were there!' It was at moments like these that Susan most recognised the boy who had come through the wardrobe with her, moments when he was caught off-guard. He looked so much younger then, she thought, and a fresh determination washed over her: it was only Peter; she could do this.

But before she could speak, Peter regained some of his kingly manner. 'Do you know where Caterina is?'

It was a familiar question and Susan answered in the time-honoured tradition. 'No, sorry. Have you asked Edmund?'

'I haven't seen him since breakfast either.' Peter's frown deepened. 'They're not anywhere in the castle.'

Susan was about to offer to help find the troublesome pair. It was so easy to slip into that familiar role, where she supported what Peter wanted and tried to make it happen. It was who she was. It was definitely easier than what she'd come here to talk about.

_Your family take you for granted._

And just like that, Susan's resolve came flooding back.

'Peter, can I talk to you?'

He barely glanced at her. 'I'm going to send somebody to the beach.'

'Peter?' Susan tried again, biting her tongue, fighting against her instincts to give in.

'Why is there nobody around when you want them?' He swept back through the doorway, jostling Susan in his haste to ring for one of the servants.

It seemed easier with his back to her. 'Peter. Please.'

As he rang the bell, he acknowledged her properly for the first time. 'Sorry, Susan, is there something you want?'

'Yes.'

'Well can it wait?' Footsteps rang out in the corridor in the silence that followed his question. Just before he turned to speak to the servant who had arrived, clearly out of breath from having run all the way from the kitchen, Susan overcame her shock at his words and spoke.

'No. It can't.'

A moment passed between the siblings as Peter gazed at her wide-eyed. Susan met his stare head on, refusing to look away and admit any form of defeat. It had taken her days to overcome her natural aversion to conflict; she couldn't give in now.

The servant glanced between the two, sensing the tension and yet knowing he had absolutely no right to acknowledge it. Eventually, he hesitantly said, 'Sire?'

Peter barely took his eyes off of his sister as he directed the boy. 'Ride out to the beach. Tell King Edmund and Caterina I wish to speak with them. Immediately.' The servant left with a hasty bow. Peter raised his eyebrows. 'This better be important.'

In the days Since Nate (for Susan had already begun to unconsciously divide her life into two), she had rehearsed her speech several hundred times over, setting out her reasons for objecting to a marriage to one of the most eligible bachelors in the kingdom: his age, her age, their lack of acquaintance. The arguments had been reasoned and methodical, refuting the counter-arguments she knew Peter could easily produce: not wanting to offend such a powerful man, his extreme eligibility, the fact she was more than of-age by Narnian standards. It had all been so calm and collected in the privacy of her room in front of the mirror.

Yet now the moment had come those arguments vanished and all that was left was her overriding fear of being sent away across the country to live with a man she didn't know and didn't trust. Momentarily, her tongue refused to move.

Peter hardly concealed his irritation. 'Susan? Look, unless you've got something really important to say…'

'I can't marry Lord Asriel.' Susan was as shocked when the words came as Peter was and for several seconds neither was able to say anything more. Then, the arguments tripped off her tongue, confused and muddled. 'I'm sorry, he's just… too… young… I mean old, _I'm _too young, and I know that there are younger wives than me but I don't know him, he's…'

'Susan.'

'I'm sorry, Peter, I know that he's very powerful but…'

'Susan.'

'I just…'

'Susan!' Peter caught her shoulders and stemmed the flow of protestations that were flowing out of her. This close, she could see the concern etched into every inch of his face and she hated that; he had so much else to worry about these days that she would have liked to have saved him the problem of worrying about her. It was times like these that reminded her how close they'd once been. Once upon a time she wouldn't have had to tell him all of this; he'd have known without needing to be told.

The moment passed. Peter released her shoulders awkwardly, as though he'd remembered the changes in their relationship over the years just as Susan had. When he spoke again, it was with the more reasoned voice he'd learnt in that time: the voice of High King Peter.

'Lord Asriel has not asked for your hand in marriage.'

One simple sentence, delivered coldly, somehow made the knots in Susan's stomach untie themselves. She didn't know she'd been holding her breath until now.

'But… Lucy said…' Even now she refused to quite believe she'd been given such absolution so easily. Trying to recover her own royal persona, she regained some control over her words. 'Lucy said he was looking for a wife at the ball.'

'He was. He still is.' Peter sighed and turned back to his desk, some of that kingly bearing disappearing again as he picked up a bundle of papers that had clearly been pored over long and hard. He frowned at it, clearly unsure whether he should be sharing this information with anybody, before handing it to his sister.

Susan received the paper equally as doubtfully. 'Are you… sure?' She didn't know when it had been agreed that she would take no part in reading and agreeing policy, it was just the way things had been ever since they arrived in Narnia all those years ago. Peter and Edmund had worked alongside each other, talking of concepts and ideas that Susan barely understood and wasn't especially sure she wanted to anyway. Now she was being given a document that was clearly causing her brother some consternation.

But he simply leaned back against his desk, arms folded, and studied the floor. 'Just read it.'

Susan did as she was bid. It didn't take her long to get to the part which she was certain was causing him so many problems. When she did, that knot in her stomach retied itself.

'Oh Peter! You… you can't be serious?'


	20. Chapter 20: Peter

Susan had spent so much of the past eight years building up a wall around herself. Peter knew it, everybody knew it. That he'd done nothing about it and just let his sister bury away all those thoughts and feelings that he knew coursed through her veins was something else he knew he should feel guilty about. He'd turned a blind eye to it though, ignoring it, because she seemed alright, she seemed… happy. But one glance into her eyes had reminded me of just how much she'd changed. It was for more reasons than one that he kept his eyes firmly downcast to the floor.

'Peter!'

He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, a gesture of his father's he vaguely remembered from those dreadful weeks before everything had changed so completely for the family. His father had been so anxious in those days, worry etched into every premature line on his face. Not for the first time, a treacherous thought flashed through Peter's mind: _I'm too young for this_.

'I don't know,' he managed in the end, a feeble response to his sister's question.

'But Peter…' Susan scanned the papers again, her face a picture of incredulity. 'He wants to _marry _her.'

'I know.'

'He's only met her once!'

'I know.'

'She's young enough to be his daughter!'

'Susan, I know!' He resisted the urge to do something dramatic: shake his sister or sweep everything off his desk. As if those very thoughts hadn't been flying around his head ever since Asriel had made his proposal. His hands clenched into tight fists as a temper he didn't know he possessed flashed through him. _As if I was completely oblivious, Susan_.

He glanced up at her now, whose eyes had widened at his temporary loss of composure. It wasn't her fault, he reasoned, trying to remember how this conversation had started, the flustered way that she'd broached this whole conversation. She hadn't prepared herself for this.

Awkwardly he apologised. 'I'm… sorry… I didn't mean to shout.'

'It doesn't matter.'

It did, but Peter allowed her to absolve him. He always allowed her to do that, he realised, yet he couldn't afford to give in to the thousands of daily wrongs he'd caused his eldest sister. Not right now. There was already too much else to cope with. He tucked away his guilt for another day.

'But Peter…' Susan tried again hesitantly, before breaking off, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an unsure gesture that Peter hadn't seen for many years, not since those awkward days at the Professor's house. She always seemed so quietly confident these days. He'd always wondered where she'd gained such self-assurance from. Perhaps she was bluffing just as much as he was. There was almost something comforting about that.

But there was little comforting about the way she was looking at him now, expecting logical answers from him. However much they'd drifted apart in the last few years, Susan had never looked at him as she was now: doubting, uncertain, distrusting. He wished he could give her the answer she was searching for and reassure her that he was still the brother she could rely upon.

But he was more than just her brother. He was a king. And magnificent people didn't tell lies.

'He's a very rich man.'

He knew as soon as he'd spoken that they were the wrong words to choose. What he hadn't expected was Susan's reaction. He'd grown used to expecting passionate responses from Caterina, from Lucy even. But Susan?

After a moment when her mouth hung open in an expression of sheer amazement, she spoke. 'Rich? He's… rich? Is that everything? Is that…? You'd marry her off for money?'

'No.' A muscle in Peter's jaw twitched as he tried desperately not to lose his temper again. 'It's… more complicated than that.' It was with a desperate hope that he looked up to see if she was satisfied with his answer.

Her raised eyebrow made his spirits plummet again. He'd never known her be so persistent before. What had changed in his gentle sister recently? For a moment Peter allowed his thoughts to wander, to worry about why Susan seemed so different these days. Suddenly it seemed the most important thing in the world that he find out why she was so sad. It had been an awfully long time coming.

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><p><em>The coronation was over. The bright sunny afternoon had turned to a cloudless starry night, and now, as Peter gazed out over the sea from his bedchamber balcony, the sky was just turning that eerie yellow colour which heralded the arrival of the sun for a new day. The revelry in the castle had gone on into the early hours of the morning. In truth, Peter had been ready to retire for a long time before he finally did, having eventually been advised in a whisper from Mr Beaver that 'they're waiting for you to go to bed, sire.'<em>

_Sure enough, as soon as the High King had made going-to-bed noises, the music had faded and the guests had skipped merrily away to allow the new Royal family to get their sleep before the serious tasks ahead of them in the coming days. It was these which meant that Peter was still awake over three hours after leaving the festivities._

_The conversation he'd had with Aslan earlier that day was weighing heavily on his mind, as he wondered exactly how he was supposed to watch over Caterina when she seemed so terrified of his very presence. Since speaking with the Lion, Peter had tried to put aside his misgivings over this girl's place in palace, but the way she dropped her eyes as soon as he greeted her and cringed back into corners whenever a stranger appeared didn't help his confidence in her. Edmund seemed to trust her implicitly, even stealing away from the coronation ball when he should have been courting his new subjects in order to share a private joke with the girl. Peter knew he should have been content with his brother's seal of approval, but he couldn't force down the secret traitorous thoughts: _his sense of character hasn't exactly been amazing so far, has it?

_It wasn't just Caterina though; it was everything. This evening Peter had really seen what he'd signed up for, what his family had signed up for. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he had ever taken on something which he couldn't later get out of. Captain of the cricket team at school, Peter Pevensie was known as somebody at ease with responsibility and able to manage his time between studies and recreation well. It was with a wry smile that he supposed his schoolmasters had never suspected their pupil would ever be faced with having to rule an entire country; he couldn't really blame them for overestimating his abilities. The people of Narnia looked to him to guide them out of the dark times that lay behind them, and right now, thirteen-year-old Peter wasn't convinced he was really the right person for the job._

_Just when he was about to turn from the window again and try for the fifth time to get some rest, there was a knock at the door. Peter frowned. He knew it was hypocritical to judge someone for being awake this late, but surely even the servants weren't still up now?_

'_Come in.' Too late he realised he should have ask who it was first, or at least made a grab for his sword which was lying well out of reach on the other side of his chamber. As it was, he waited with a slightly pounding heart as the door creaked open._

'_Did I wake you up?' Peter felt all his muscles relax as his sister stepped into the room. Her dark hair was hanging loosely around her face now and she'd swapped the lavish coronation gown she'd worn earlier for a no-less-elegant but perhaps more comfortable robe. She looked tired, but then he was a fine one to judge._

_Even so, he addressed that particular issue immediately. 'Susan? What are you doing up? You should be in bed.'_

'_So should you.' Her eyes twinkled teasingly. _

'_I couldn't sleep,' Peter admitted._

'_Me either.' Susan gave a small not entirely sincere laugh. 'And I'm exhausted!'_

'_All that dancing.' He grinned. 'Come on, come in for a bit.'_

_It was strange, but Peter couldn't ever remember a time when Susan and he had gone to each other's rooms after dark. Both of them had shared rooms with their younger siblings for as long as they could really remember. Perhaps that was why they were finding it so difficult to sleep tonight. It was definitely why conversation was so awkward._

'_It's going to be a nice day again.' He gestured towards the open windows and the balcony._

_Susan nodded. Then, 'Peter, I've been thinking.'_

'_Oh dear.'_

_His attempt at humour bypassed her. 'It's about Mother. And Father.'_

_Peter sat up a little straighter at the very mention of his parents. 'What about them?' he asked, even as he knew. It was the same thought that had been going around in his head for the last few days, ever since they'd set foot into Narnia in fact. He could have saved Susan the trouble of opening her mouth._

'_Well… won't they wonder where we are? Won't they worry about us?' Susan bit her lip as though she was only just getting started. Her small frame shook with the million concerns that were coursing through it that she was simply desperate to share with somebody._

_And Peter made a split second decision that he wasn't going to be that person. He'd had the same thoughts and he hoped that sharing his theory on the subject would alleviate some of her fears. He also hoped it would stop her talking._

'_I don't think they will actually, Su. You see, I've been thinking too. About what the Professor said. And I don't think they'll even know.'_

'_What do you mean?' Susan frowned. _

'_The time. However long we spend here, I don't think any time at all will have gone by… there.' How was he supposed to refer to that place now? Already it seemed like a hundred miles away and several lifetimes ago. 'I don't think they'll even notice we're gone.'_

_He watched his sister process this, a small frown coming between her eyebrows as she tried to work it out. It had taken him a while._

'_So… the last few days… have been… nothing back home?'_

'_Sort of.'_

'_So… if we spend…weeks here… _years_… it'll just be… the same? Won't we age? What happens when we go back?'_

_So many questions which Peter just didn't have the answer to. Even if he'd known where to start, he was pretty certain he wouldn't; that Susan was still talking of _when_ and not _if_ was merely the tip of the iceberg. He didn't want to be responsible for shattering his sister's world by telling her he didn't think there would be a _when_ – ever. For how could he walk out and leave this world now, after everything that had happened?_

'_I… don't know. But Su,' Peter spoke before she could ask anything more, 'it's not all bad. We've… got each other. And look at this place. You've always wanted to be treated like a princess.'_

_It was a cheap trick to placate his twelve-year-old sister. Already he knew that she had seen far more in the last few days than in her whole life until this point, enough to mean that a poor joke from her big brother was never going to be enough to silence all the questions in her head. _

_Susan nodded. 'I suppose. I… should probably get to bed. Good night, Peter.'_

_The door closed behind her, and Peter slumped backwards onto his bed. He should have stopped her before she went and made her feel better. He should have promised her it would be alright._

_But there'd always be tomorrow._

* * *

><p>Susan spoke again, sounding very much as though this wasn't the first time she'd asked the question.<p>

'Peter? What is so complicated?'

The moment to set things right had passed, again. Now all he felt was irritation, a feeling that was usually only present when Caterina was in the room. Yet it had been several days since he had felt that way around her. The realisation only made his next words even more painful to squeeze out as he laid out the reasoned political reasons for his delay in refusing Lord Asriel.

'He's very powerful. An alliance with him would be… beneficial.'

'Beneficial for who? Caterina?' Susan shook her head vehemently. 'What if it were me? Or Lucy?'

'That would be different.'

'How?'

'She's not my sister!' Peter winced as the words left his mouth. No matter how true they were, he knew they weren't something Susan would find appropriate. Desperately trying to cover up his words, he added in a softer tone, 'Come on, Su, we both know it's more than she could ever really hope for.'

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Peter would wake up shivering. No matter how many blankets he had on his bed, no matter how high the fire had been stoked the previous evening, at times it simply wasn't enough to stave off the nightmares of those dark days at the beginning of his time in Narnia. The fear and panic he'd felt as such a young boy came back in waves and traced icy lines down his back. Oh, Peter knew all about the cold.

And yet Susan's gaze upon him right then almost cut through him more neatly than the iciest wind he'd ever known. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time, really looking for the only time in the nineteen years she'd known him. That wall which she'd allowed him to see through such a short time before came crashing back down and she perceptively put an extra inch or two between them. For all the things which would happen in the days and months to come, Peter would always remember that moment as one of the most painful: the moment he realised how much he'd betrayed his own family by even considering this future for Caterina.

Footsteps in the corridor outside interrupted the heavy silence. Peter and Susan both looked towards the doorway momentarily united as one. Then she turned back to him, her eyes cold and distant.

'You're going to tell them, aren't you?'

'Su, I don't have a choice.'

Her felt her gaze flicker over him once.

Then the door opened.


	21. Chapter 21: Caterina

**This is a very belated update and I'm going to give up pretending I'll ever be reliable. Still, perhaps it's better late than never?**

* * *

><p><em>The last few days had been so confusing. Caterina had always found life surprisingly easy to deal with, but then, with hindsight, her life had always <em>been_ easy. For as long as she could remember, she had lived an almost carefree existence, following a prescribed routine with almost no change. If she'd been bored or frustrated, she hadn't been aware of it. She hadn't known there was any other way to be._

_And now… Now there was so much more. Curled up under a tree in the orchard, Caterina closed her eyes suddenly, that now-familiar overwhelming feeling sweeping over her as it had done so often in the five days since she'd set eyes upon the golden Lion. Her eyes ached with the colour and movement she saw everywhere she looked. Even when she closed her eyes she could see the light breaking through the trees in messy spots on her retinas. She pressed her hands over her eyes. Part of her wished it would all just stop._

_It wasn't that people were unkind to her here. Far from it, they'd been almost killing her with kindness. The Queen had never exactly been _friendly_ yet suddenly Caterina had found herself all but enveloped into a ready-made family who were keen for her to feel welcome. It was more than a little daunting. She had been so used to being mostly ignored within that gloomy house all these years, that to have the direct gaze of so many people upon her now was almost more than she could handle. She was simply grateful that, so far, she'd been allowed to hide away from the crowds of Narnians who had descended upon the castle for the coronation and subsequent festivities. That would have pushed her too far._

_What her ten-year-old brain still couldn't comprehend was how quickly things had changed. Less than seven days ago she had been living her life, day after day, as it had been lived for as long as she could remember. Then had come the rumours, the whispers on the air that something had changed, that Humans had arrived. It had seemed so inconsequential at the time. And then had come Edmund, the boy who had stumbled into the house one evening and with him had come a raft of emotions Caterina had never even known existed. In the days that had followed, they'd only multiplied, becoming more confusing and baffling by the hour, not least when Edmund had vanished and she'd been sent back to the house alone with the Queen's note burning a hole in her hand. Caterina had been all but ready to close her eyes and not open them again._

_When she had opened them, she'd seen Him, the Lion. More golden and radiant than she'd ever imagined anything could be. Aslan had been a word she'd heard only a few times in her life, a word which the Queen had had a visceral reaction to. Caterina had assumed He was something terrible and terrifying; her guardian had always been so afraid of His visiting Narnia. And He was terrible and terrifying – but He was also captivating and beautiful and _good_. Caterina had hardly been able to draw breath when she first saw Him. As He'd turned to look at her, every instinct had told her to back away and avoid looking into those tawny eyes. It had taken all of her courage to stand still and face Him. Perhaps that was why, when He spoke, His voice had been so kind._

'_Child. You seem tired.'_

_She was. Even now, as she sat in the orchard by herself, she could feel the ache in all her muscles and bones which had been creeping upon her ever since she'd been found in the Queen's house days before. Aslan hadn't been wrong; she was so tired. Everything had been so different in the days since then that Caterina wondered if things would ever seem normal again. Because now she had the time to think, so much of her life seemed incomprehensible. For so long, she had feared the coming of the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, had dreaded the day when Aslan might return. She had learnt her responses from her only example, the Queen, and the thought that her guardian might be in some way harmed by these events had taught Caterina to fear them. Yet now they had happened and her guardian was gone, leaving her alone in this much changed world. And now Caterina was wondering whether everything she'd ever believed had been wrong somehow._

_For Peter was so much nobler and valiant than she had imagined; Susan was so much more beautiful and kind. Edmund was more patient than she had a right to expect from him. Lucy had a charm and warmth that a lifetime of ice and snow made Caterina cling to unconsciously. _

_And Aslan was more wonderful and brilliant than she had imagined He could be._

_Caterina didn't understand how things had changed so much in so short a time. But maybe she was glad they had because these last few days had filled her with the kind of warmth that she could never remember feeling before. If this was the change the Queen had feared all these years, she couldn't help thinking maybe her guardian had been misguided in more ways than one. Because right now, Caterina could sense one thing for certain: these people would never abandon her in the way the Queen had._

* * *

><p>Caterina blinked and tried to ignore the dull ache that had been spreading across her body as the afternoon had worn on. She had never found listening to Peter easy, especially when he was talking about policies and it took her several seconds after he had concluded to realise that what he'd been talking about, proposals and marriages and alliances, involved her.<p>

It only fully hit home when Edmund erupted into life beside her. 'What? You're seriously considering this? Peter? Really?' He looked from his brother to his sister. 'Are you insane?'

'Ed, I know what you're thinking-'

'I don't think you do!'

'Well, I think I can _guess_.' Peter rolled his eyes in a most un-kinglike manner; on any other occasion, Caterina might have sniggered. 'Just… don't fly off the handle yet.'

'I'm not flying off the handle!' Edmund insisted. 'This is madness, Peter, and you know it! You've lost your mind!'

'There is no need to speak to me like that.' Peter's own voice rose. 'I'm still High King here, Edmund-'

'So that means you can behave like a lunatic? Su, do you agree with this?'

There was a pause when the shouting stopped. Caterina focused her attention downwards, somehow hoping that if she simply said nothing then this wouldn't really be happening and she might somehow wake up on the beach. A stabbing in her forehead managed to convince her that this wasn't a dream, that it was real, and so she hoped she could simply slip away without notice.

It was only when Susan spoke that Caterina lifted her head.

'I want to know what Caterina thinks.'

All three pairs of eyes were fixed on her suddenly, and Caterina remembered those feelings when she first came here all those years ago. Back then, she'd assumed that, one day, she would feel more comfortable when people looked at her. Now, she only felt the familiar sense of dread that she was being forced to give an opinion; somehow she knew it would be the wrong one.

'I..' She looked from Peter to Edmund and back again. It should be an easy decision to make. When Peter had first mentioned Lord Asriel's name, it was only Edmund's audible groan that made her remember who he was at all. Her birthday already seemed so long ago, buried behind some kind of fog that sometimes faded away but never completely vanished. It was only the vague memory of a fight she'd had with her best friend that brought back that one meaningless dance she'd had with the older man. How had it gone from that to this? A proposal of marriage! Caterina would have laughed if the silence hadn't become so filled with tension. And if it wasn't for the look on Peter's face. Over the years, she'd grown used to his set jaw when she'd once again disappointed him, to the anger which boiled in his eyes when she'd all but openly defied him. She'd never seen him look like this before: apologetic, wary… afraid.

Suddenly the decision seemed very complicated indeed.

'I… don't know…'

Edmund's eyes widened. 'You don't know? You mean you want to marry him?'

'No, I…'

'Then tell him!' For the first time she could ever remember, Caterina was frightened of Edmund. She'd never seen such rage in him before. 'Aslan's mane, Cat, how complicated is it?'

'Edmund.' Susan put a hand (rather bravely, Caterina thought) upon her brother's arm. 'Calm down.'

If it had been Peter, Edmund would probably have raged on, as he threw his brother a black look. For Susan, however, he'd listen and obey, even as he flung himself into a chair so hard that it skidded backwards across the floor.

'You don't have to decide now, Caterina,' Peter began.

'So it is still her decision then?' Edmund interjected, and was duly ignored by his brother.

'You don't have to decide now,' Peter repeated. His words were soft and surprisingly gentle; Caterina couldn't remember him ever speaking to her like this before. 'You're only just eighteen, and you hardly know Lord Asriel. You'll need some time to think it over, I know. To that end,' he gestured towards the letter in his hand, 'Lord Asriel intends to spend some time with us here. He arrives the day after tomorrow.'

'You didn't say,' Susan said accusingly, her voice colder than Caterina had heard it. 'When were you going to tell me that?'

'I didn't get a chance.'

'I suppose he'll expect a formal dinner?'

'I expect so.'

'That's what you're worried about?' Edmund broke into his siblings' dispute, his anger this time directed towards his sister. 'Whether he'll want a formal dinner or not?'

'I was just…'

'I can't believe we're even having this conversation! I can't believe you'd even allow him to stay here after all the rumours!'

'That's all they are, Edmund… rumours.' Peter looked tired, Caterina mused. Despite her own racing heart, she wondered how long he'd been dealing with all of this news on his own. She'd never considered how lonely he must feel. 'There's been no proof.'

'Well maybe it's time someone started proving things!' Edmund stood up. 'And maybe that someone should be me!'

'Edmund!' Peter tried, but the door slammed shut behind his brother.

'_I'll_ go after him.' Susan decided, glaring at her older brother. 'I need to begin organising things for Lord Asriel's arrival anyway.' The door closed again, only slightly less heavily than before.

Peter gave an exasperated sigh and crossed to the window. Caterina stayed rooted to her seat. The ache in her head had spread into her back and legs and standing up momentarily seemed more than she could manage. Perhaps if she just stayed here until she felt a little better, Peter would forget all about her and leave without another word. Then maybe she could try to understand what had happened here in peace. It was the best she could hope for right now.

'I'm sorry.' At first, Caterina wondered if the words were directed at her, so quietly were they spoken. Peter had never really apologised to her before, for anything, and on this occasion she didn't see much that either of them had to apologise about. That was a rarity in itself, one she thought he might actually smile about. It startled her how much she wanted to see him smile; that haunted look he'd directed towards her earlier had unsettled her more than she would admit even to herself.

Then he turned back to her and repeated himself. 'I'm really sorry, Caterina.'

She shook her head, embarrassed. Unable to think of what to say in such an unprecedented circumstance, she simply mumbled, 'S'alright.'

A small smile did cross his features then. 'It's not. But thank you.'

Caterina gave him a weak smile back, trying to ignore the ache in her teeth as she did so. She got shakily to her feet. 'I might take a walk before dinner.'

He frowned. 'Are you sure you're alright?'

She nodded and made an effort to stop her hands shaking. 'I'll just be going.'

Peter let her get to the door before he spoke. 'Caterina?' She hesitated in the doorway. 'Whatever you decide… everything will be… fine.'

Caterina nodded again, and tried to ignore that he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

* * *

><p>Feelings of shame and self-loathing swept over Caterina as she stepped into the cold silence of the orchard as the sun stretched its rays across the sky in one last dance of defiance before succumbing to the night. Her body moved almost without her conscious will, whilst her mind became the confused mess of thoughts and feelings she could remember from the last eight years. The ache in her bones had only intensified in the hours since she'd left Peter's chambers. Coming to the orchard this evening had almost seemed a relief after the day she had had.<p>

Moments of that day flashed through her mind now: the colour of the sea during her walk this afternoon, the deep calm that had settled over her as she and Edmund had spent time together, just like they always had done. But then the ugly words, the way Finn crept around her as though she was poisonous, the betrayal in Edmund's eyes, the pity in Peter's voice. The sense that they would never have placed Susan or Lucy in this situation.

It was that final thought that sent her sinking to her knees, and only then did the Queen speak.

'So you have realised the truth at last. I had always credited you with more intelligence than this, Caterina. Did you really think they would ever choose you over their sisters?'

Caterina clung to a few fragments of hope. 'Edmund said…'

'The traitor?' The words were spoken lightly. 'You believe a word the brat says? Oh Caterina. You disappoint me again.'

Only then did a couple of tears seep out of her eyes, dropping to the frosted grass without Caterina even attempting to stem them. She wasn't sure what was hurting more: the Queen's disappointment in her or the sense that what she was saying was true. Everybody had made this seem as though it was her choice, her decision what happened next. Yet the way Peter had talked beforehand, about treatise and alliances and bringing stability to the region, made it seem as though there were no decision to be made. It had all already been decided.

'I tried to protect you from this, Caterina. I gave you your instructions long ago.'

A rare burst of defiance broke forth from her shattered illusions. 'I won't kill him! I… I can't!' A sob cut off any further attempts to explain herself. There were no words anyway. The Queen would never understand. Caterina wasn't sure she understood herself. How could she be here, betraying Edmund and his family so deeply, whilst professing her belief in him? She brushed a hand over her eyes roughly, as though that would be enough to wipe everything away.

'Nor, it seems, will you make him love you. At least, not enough.' A fresh sob broke forth and the Queen gave a snort of disgust. 'And little wonder. Here. Drink.'

Caterina had never fallen on a cup as greedily as she did now, feeling the liquid seeping through her bones and soothing away the aches and pains which had made it so difficult to think all afternoon. The day's events were still there, lingering in the background, but dulled and at a distance. By the time the last drops had slipped down her throat, her tears had dried and the gnawing sensation in her stomach had faded.

Caterina almost felt renewed as she opened her eyes again and faced her former guardian. 'What do you want me to do?'

It was a long time before the Queen finally stopped laughing.


End file.
